Bagmans Gambit
by PhadriaButterkist
Summary: Hermione has been “captured” and unsurprisingly it is Draco Malfoy sent to question her. Poppies, quiche and lewd origami - it's all here! Not your usual Dramione tale
1. Not Again

Draco Malfoy hated his job. Every day brought fresh humiliation, which - despite the years of practice- he never got used to. He had been pushed into 'accepting' a job in the Ministry so obviously meant as a punishment that he wondered why there had been any pretence to the contrary.

He was perfectly miserable. He sat hunched over a battered desk contemplating his misfortunes as he worked.

_Prisoner #24 responds to the Crutiatus curse by frothing at the mouth' _he read, as he ran his wand over the scrawled writing of an unnamed ministry official_, "Begged to have his wife spared. Wife has been pencilled in to tomorrows interrogation'_

"Refero."

Flicking his wand over the ledger he watched the same words appeared in his own writing.

He was responsible for the administration within his department. He had wanted to work in International Magical Cooperation, where he could have put the Malfoy name to good use, restoring it to it's former glory along the way. But as it was, he was copying the notes from an "interrogation" into the appropriate ledger.

Sighing for what felt the third tie in as many minutets he looked up from the unpleasant paperwork to ink his quill. He did so just in time for the charmed memo that had zoomed in not moments before to fly into his eye.

His already dubious self control shattered. He snatched it out of the air and began beating it into the desk, swearing profusely, until his fist hurt and the magic had been thumped out of the parchment. His frustration remained.

**MESSAGE MR. D. MALFOY**

**RE: MB IDENTIFICATION AND SUBSEQUENT PROCESSING**

'_No...' thought the wizard, 'No, not again...'_

**SMALL BAND OF UNDESIRABLES ATTEMPTED A RAID UNDER A BEDAZZLING CURSE. **

**SUSPECTED MB WITCH IN CUSTODY. AGE est EARLY 20'S. **

**APPREHENDED: KNOCKTURN ALLEY: BORGIN AND BURKES, 1100 HOURS. **

**FOR FULL DETAIL SEE MACNAIR**

**CAPTIVE'S PHOTOGRAPH ATTACHED.**

**YOU ARE REQUIRED ON THE TENTH LEVEL TO IDENTIFY SUSPECT AT 1300 HOURS**

**AND, IN THE EVENT OF POSITIVE IDENTIFICATION, TO PROCESS.**

**MESSAGE END**

He felt sick. They couldn't ask him to do it again, surely. Not after he was so deliberately ineffectual last time... and the time before that.

He stole a glance at the photograph. It was hard to get a good look at the woman's face, she was struggling so uch against the shining black ropes that had been conjured to hold her. Eventually she looked up at the camera. Malfoy paled, or would have done, had there been any colour in his face. The witch herself was not familiar... but he had seen that expression before. His mind drifted back to his third year and the memory of a slap so vivid it snapped his mind back to the present.

He saw a dozen tiny details; the teeth she bared, the shape of her hairline and of her nose... It was Granger! But this woman was not the bushy haired bookworm that hung around Potter any more... She looked terrible and terrifying in one.

Her cheeks were hollow and her eyes over bright and feverish. Her _hair_, Merlin it was positively _lank_. He regretted the changes, almost as if they were his own. It seemed nobody was getting out of the war unmarked.

In the medical room on level three; 'Magical accidents and catastrophes', Madame Pomfrey was patching up Macnair, who had been struck with a ConjunctivitisCurse_._

"-One of them hit another with a spell by accident I think" he explained through the hospital curtain. "Ouch! Watch where you put that wand of yours Pomfrey!"

Madam Pomfrey bowed her head in submission- but the satisfied glint in her eye as she pulled back the curtain, suggested it may have not been accidental. She nodded Curtly to Malfoy, who stepped closer to the hospital bed.

"Anyway, the one that caught the curse cried out and a voice said 'sorry Hermione, I didn't see you!' then this other one said 'You're not to use real names!' and the first one said 'Sorry Nevel...I mean godric.' and someone else called him "kodak" and said to shut the fuck up.'

Pomfrey had bandaged his eyes while the soothing balm she had applied to them took affect, leaving the injured Wizard looking even more helpless than before.

"Which one hit you with the Conjunctivitis Curse?" asked Malfoy.

"I didn't bloody see, did I! Or I'd have blocked it."

"Have you actually got _any_ useful information for me?"

Malfoy returned to at his desk with a list of names that Macnair had overheard in the scuffle.

**Won Won:** probably Weasley, that Lavender Brown had called him that before, Malfoy was sure of that at least.

**Kodak: **a scrawled note to the side of it informed Malfoy that Kodak was a sort of muggle film for taking pictures that didn't move. That was probably the annoying Gryfindor with a camera, the one that was petrified when the Chamber of Secrets was opened. Callumn Creepy or something...

**Godric: **was apprently Longbottom! What a joke that was... If it hadn't been for Macnair recalling someone called "_Nevil...er i mean __**Godric**_" he would have guessed at that one being Potter... Longbottom, how funny!

**Diana:** Malfoy wondered if this might be another slip up when it came to the nicknames until he remembered **Diana** was the Goddess of the moon. That one must be Luna Lovegood, the poor girl that had spent so long chained up in the dark underneath his house. He suppressed a shudder and returned to his list.

**Seeker:** If THAT one wasn't Potter, Malfoy would stick his wand in his...oh wait, look at this one

**Prongs:** Wasn't it a stag that his infamous bloody Patronous took the form of...?

Well then who the hell was **Seeker**?

Ah the Weaslette! She'd played seeker for the Gryfindors when they were still at Hogwarts.

Which left **Athena.** That one was pretty obvious one, self-rightous book-worm probably loved it. Goddess of Knowledge and war. How predictable.

Smoothing his pale hair back, Draco set his face into a impassive mask, ready to walk down to the tenth level.

He had been forced to interrogate old classmates before. While he was hardened to reading the transcripts of such practises, witnessing them first hand still something he did not want to do. Although, lately, he found himself watching the effects dark hexes and even unforgivable curses without a second thought. A disconcerting little fact that he had never told his mother.

He thought about Granger. He didn't know her as well as some of the people he had interrogated. He remembered Lee Jordan. How many times had he listened to that bastards biased commentary at Quidditch? He'd been quite funny... _sometimes_. He remembered how that familiar voice sounded when it was screaming.

He had even been glad when Potter and his two sidekicks had got into the ministry and freed so many prisoners, Jordan among them. He he had stood aside when he saw them all catapulting down the corridor. But Granger had hit him with a Full Body Bind on her way past, regardless of the gesture. Perhaps It would be easier to "interrogate" her after all.


	2. Athena in chains

_Perhaps It would be easier to "interrogate" her after all. _

When he arrived at the interrogation room, Malfoy still had no idea quite what he was going to do. He just wanted to get the forms filled in quickly and get out again as soon as possible. He held his hand to a panel of engraved brass on the door, which then opened for him.

The woman, who had hitherto been staring at the wall in front of her, looked towards the door with a raised eyebrow. It was not the shape Draco remembered it being... Perhaps it was the swelling. Indeed She sported several bruises and painful looking injuries. Her lip had been split although it was obviously not as puffy as it had been.

She recognised him at once, and her other misshapen eyebrow flew up to meet it's neighbour. He noted that she was still bound with the black shining ropes conjured by her captors.

"Malfoy! What are you doing here?

"I work here Granger." He answered as he took his seat. "We cannot all be revolutionaries."

The witch sat opposite clearly thought little of this sentiment.

"So you became a Deatheater instead?" she laughed without mirth. "Well I suppose that felt quite revolutionary when you did it."

She regarded him for a moment, with narrowed eyes. Though he had never really noted them before he was sure they had been brown. Malfoy began to wonder if it really was Hermione Granger sat in front of him.

"But now," she continued, "you hold an unpleasant position in the ministry that your _Lord_ must have known you wouldn't enjoy... You don't like torture, if I remember correctly, Malfoy." She paused a moment, "But I bet you mostly you're just a cleric. Am I close?"

"You don't know anything, Mudblood."

"I know how proud you were when you became a Deatheater." She said, leaning back into her bindings, "Is it everything you thought it would be?".

"I am _still_ proud _Granger_. Do not presume to be familiar with me. I will not hesitate to put you on the wrong side of my wand."

He had expected fearful silence and was surprised when the girl began to laugh.

"Well, your wand is in Harry's hand these days."

That stung.

He reached into his robes and drew out an undeniably new wand.

It was made from the leg of a birch wood table; filled with the talon of a Hippogriff brought to the ministry for execution...it was ramshackle and ill-tempered and he hated it. But it was a wand and it was _his_.

"Know who made this for me?"he asked silkily,

Slowly, she shook her head.

"Really? Perhaps communications on your side are not what they could be. Have you not heard of any disappearances lately?"

She did not respond, he took this to mean she had not.

"It was Olivander..."

She didn't move. Her eyes narrowed a little however.

He carried on. "So I believe _I'll_ be the one to ask the questions. _I'm _in charge here."

"How unusual."

This young woman was not at all as he remembered. She was an imposter- he was certain. He decided to test the waters.

"Now then _Weasley_,"

"Oh Ron and I aren't married yet." replied the witch, not missing a beat.

"You can drop you little act now Weaslette" he snapped, "or whoever you are."

Ignoring the surprise in her face he continued.

"You may have had an attempt at disguising yourself as Granger, but she doesn't shape her eyebrows and her eyes are a different colour. Your posture and mode of dress are also way off the mark, did it not occur to you to imitate her actions as well as her face?"

"Well now Malfoy! Who would have thought you paid so much attention to my eyes!"

The young wizard stared at her. "I didn't!" he protested. "They weren't even _your_ eyes, they were Granger's."

"What else is different?" she asked slyly.

"You don't hold yourself in the same way."

"Well I don't have a school bag rammed with books to weigh me down..."

"And you're not her."

"No." She said wistfully, "No, I suppose I'm not."

He grinned and was about to ask who she was, when she spoke again.

"So tell me, Malfoy; did you like her?"

"Did I like her?" he groped for the words. "What the hell are you talking about! No I didn't _like_ that shrill knowitall! Who are you then, if not Granger?"

She shrugged.

"Hermione, I suppose."

"Not **Seeker**? That was your code-name wasn't it?" he coaxed, determined to get this stupid girl-weasel to slip up.

"No, that was Ginny's. Mine was **Athena**." she replied coolly, adding with a conspiritorial air;

"It was a little embarrassing if you ask me, but Neville insisted. I wanted..."

"Ah yes, _Longbottom_. Clumsy oaf that tripped over a table."

"How dare you!" The woman fired up suddenly, "Neville is no oaf. Neville is a great man!"

"Ah, Perhaps you're Mrs. Longbottom!" he grinned, "Tell me, was it your idea to call him **Godric**? That surely got some laughs."

"Godric Gryfindors sword is his. He used it to cut the head from Voldemorts snake..."

"How dare you say the Dark Lords name you filthy little Mudblood!"

"How can you be sure I'm muggleborn?"

"Wh... What?"

"If I am not this pretty slip of a girl Granger that you seem so familiar with..."

" '_If'?" s_pluttered Malfoy, before adding_, "_And I never said she was pretty!

"You know I was talking figuratively, don't you Malfoy?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well... I _am_ Hermione Granger." she answered wryly, pausing a moment. "Or Mudblood, if you prefer."

"I'd prefer you bloody well stop playing games, you have already admitted you aren't Granger!"

"So you _don't_ prefer Mudblood. How interesting...you used to."

"I was a boy. Now I know a simple insult like that won't hurt you. A cruciatus curse however..."

She was nonchalant, "I have had worse."

"There is nothing worse."

She was silent. Malfoy assuming he had won the spate, returned to his seat.

While Hermione mused privately that there were many things worse than the cruciatus curse.

Failure for example.

"Malfoy?"

Malfoy stopped on his way back to his seat and looked at her.

"If you would be kind enough to perform **Finite Incantatem **upon me, things might be a little clearer."

Malfoy, looking a little stunned that this was simple spell work, and not a poorly brewed polyjuice potion, lifted his wand.

"**Finite Incantatem!"**


	3. Beneath the mask

_Malfoy, looking a little stunned that this was simple spell work, and not a poorly brewed polyjuice potion, lifted his wand._

"_**Finite Incantatem!"**_

The captives face began to bubble and shift. The pale wizard watched in horror as her hair began to recoil into tight green curls and her grey skin turned a brilliant white. Her nose grew like a tomato under an engorgement charm, swelling and turning redder and redder. Then a smile began to stretch across her rubbery face as though some unseen hands were pulling her lips apart and two black 'X's appeared across her eyes.

With tentative fingers, Malfoy reached out and removed the Muggle clown mask. Curls tumbled over her face as they spilled from the ludicrous latex disguise. She shook them out of her eyes, as best she could in her still bound state, and Malfoy saw that she was very beautiful. Her skin was milky and fresh looking; lit by rosy tones in her cheeks, as though dawn was rising over snow. The goldish colour of her eyes remained despite his certainty they were brown, however their almond shape was now shown. Her chin was less pointed and her pink lips were fuller. Despite his shock, he wondered idly if the mask had been uncomfortable to wear, pressing on her plump mouth and high cheekbones as it had to force them into such unbecoming shapes.

The young woman was beautiful… but undeniably still Granger.

"I…" she began, but Malfoy cut her off.

"What the fuck! What were you even wearing that for! …You said you weren't Granger, you fucking liar!"

Hermione was slightly taken aback by his anger. "Oh come on Malfoy! Isn't that a bit much?"

"A bit much? What the bloody hell! "

She grinned.

"And what did you do to your teeth!" he exclaimed.

"My…my _teeth_?" she stared at him. "Malfoy they've been like that since we were fourteen and you're choosing _that_ to focus on? I thought you were bright!"

His gawking expression did not do much to convince her.

" Isn't it a bit obvious why I wear that?" she asked, nodding her head to the mask he still clutched in his fingers.

"No it bloody well isn't."

"God you sound like Ron. Okay, Malfoy." She sighed," What did you think of my appearance when you first saw me?"

"I thought you were a bushy haired little-"

"Not at Hogwarts you idiot, this afternoon!"

Ignoring, or perhaps not noticing, the fact his prisoner was calling him names, he answered.

"I didn't think anything. I thought you looked different though. You didn't fool _me_"

"For gods sake Malfoy don't be such a prat." She took a deep breath and carried on. "And what do you think of me now?"

Malfoy glowered and looked away without answering. He swallowed uncharacteristically but kept his face in check.

"I think you're a silly little liar who can't even put a glamour on a mask properly. Why didn't you make yourself look like a foreign dignitry and head for the coast? Get the fuck out of England while you could. "

"You think I'm ... attractive, don't you?" persisted Hermione, ignoring Malfoy's off the cuff plans for possible escapes.

"Bit full of yourself aren't you Granger? "

"Hermione" she said firmly.

"…whatever."

"Can you at least agree that certain Deatheaters, snatchers and other ne'er-do-wells would perhaps consider me an object of…um." She blushed a deep scarlet, setting off her golden eyes so she looked the physical embodiment of Gryffindor.

"Desire?" prompted Malfoy, rather enjoying the display of modesty. Slytherin girls never blushed and the women at the ministry were more likely to redden in anger. It was a bit of a novelty.

"If you like." She answered, demurely.

"So you wore that ridiculous mask, glamoured to make you less attractive? Rather than just skip the country?"

"I wont run away when there are still people I can help!" she snapped, looking at her interrogator with such loathing he felt a little cowed. Suddenly though, she seemed to collect herself and returned to the familiarity she had been attempting to cultivate between them/

" Anyway," she cleared her throat a continued, nonchalantly "we all did; Luna, Ginny... Fleur especially."

"Delacour?"

"Mhmm, she has to take polyjuice half the time and it still shows through; her Veela charm."

"I knew it! I knew she was part Veela!" exclaimed Malfoy. He wondered if it was too late to owl Theo Nott and tell him he owed him ten galleons. Perhaps five years was too long to call a bet. No! He had won fair and square; there was no timescale on victory.

Hermione looked at him with amusement and carried on.

"…Anyway, Not wanting to fall prey to…"

"You didn't want to get touched up or raped basically." he said.

"I don't think anyone _can_ want to be raped… contradiction in terms Malfoy…"

"Trying to intellectualise the discussion Granger?"

"Hermione." she said again, just as firmly as before, trying to hold his eye as she did so. She didn't like looking him in the eye, he could tell. Throughout their interview she had been carefully avoiding his gaze, only looking at him to glare and flash her eyes angrily. She was trying to be civil, he realised, but was having trouble controlling her hatred for him. And why not. He had teased her for years before... the tower and then... then his aunt...

He shook himself.

"I am not calling you Hermione." he said, as distastefull as he could.

"Make me a bit more human, would it?" she muttered.

"What?"

She did not answer.

* * *

Malfoy looked at his watch. The day had finally dragged to a close. He had spent the past four hours filling in the basic paperwork for his new ward. She had been far from co-operative. He had not realised for some time that the names of her parent, grandparents, great-grandparents... were all fictional muggles. He would not have realised at all if she hadn't tried to convince him that her maternal grand-parents were Mr and Mrs M Mouse while her paternal ones were Mr and Mrs D Duck.

After angrily scribbling out the entire document they had started again with little success than before. Draco Malfoy might have been a Wizard but he knew enough about muggle culture to know that it was unlikely that she came from the two houses, (both alike in dignity) Montague and Capulet. He had ceased finding her pathetic attempts funny quite quickly.

At last, however, it was ten past five and he could go home.

"We will have to pick this up in the morning Granger."

"Oh that's a shame."

"Isn't it? If only i could remain here with you and continue our lesson in Muggle Studies but, alas, I have to go home to m luxurious flat and my full larder and my massive bed."

She cocked her head and looked at him thoughtfully for a moment.

"Alone." she said.

"What do _you_ care if I sleep alone?" Why did she not respond to his taunts like normal people? He longed for the days when she was the one that told Potter to just ignore him and led by example.

"You'll go home; alone. You will eat; alone and then you will sleep; alone. So don't try and taunt me with tales of goose down because I may be sleeping on a cold hard bed, but I have the comfort of knowing I have friends who are loyal and care about me. You sold that to your master and all the money in Gringotts couldn't but it back for you."

The wizard did not answer at first. He gathered his things in a dignified silence.

"Enjoy your cell." he said at last. Hermione felt a pang of remourse. She hadn't meant to touch a nerve.... well, no, she _had_ but she still felt bad about it. She felt bad about the whole situation she had been put in actually. But the worst was still to come.

"My mask!" she said suddenly. "Malfoy, put it back on me!"

"What?"

"Give me back my mask! I don't want those guards to-"

"Ho Ho!" laughed Malfoy, realising her fear. "Do you know what, _mudblood_? I don't think I will."

"Come on Malfoy," she wheedled, pausing to think for a moment before adding: "think of it as a thank you."

"A thank you! Oh now I am intrigued. What for, exactly?"

"What for?" she cried. "If it hadn't been for me you'd be in a cell too! You let us passed when we broke all those prisoners out. And they'd have _known_ you had, Malfoy, if I hadn't cursed you-"

"Come of it, you did that because you could."

"We aren't all vindictive bullies Malfoy. Some of us have honour"

"It's waste of time."

"So... so you aren't going to help me?"

"Fine, Gryfindor, I'll put your mask back on. But this isn't honourable. I just don't want to have you snivelling about being harassed by the guards in the morning."

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	4. All Alone

"_Fine, Gryfindor, I'll put your mask back on. But this isn't honourable. I just don't want to have you snivelling about being harassed by the guards in the morning."_

Draco did indeed go home alone. He ate alone. He went to bed, alone.

He lay looking at the ceiling, mulling over what the Gryffindor had told him.

_I may be sleeping on a cold hard bed, but I have the comfort of knowing I have friends who are loyal and care about me. You sold that to your master and all the money in Gringotts couldn't but it back for you._

She was right, feather beds and delicious food in a luxurious flat were nothing really. He had never thought of it that way before. He missed his mother, he missed the Slytherin bed hangings of his old bedroom and he missed the cooking of his own houselves. For he may have boasted of the fine meal he would return to the imprisoned Granger- who could expect no food till the morning- but he was an appalling cook. His mother used to send him supper every evening but it was no secret that her health was failing. The houselves were too concerned with the nursing of their Mistress to fret over Master Draco's supper when he was far away in London. And his father was away, he knew not where, in the service of the Dark Lord.

The Ministry had kept that one quiet, Voldemort being mysteriously weakened; his greatest fear being that Potter would find him.

Malfoy eventually fell asleep, pondering his misfortunes, not bothering to get beneath the covers or remove his cheap blue ministry robes. Everything had gone wrong for him. He had failed the Dark Lord and was forced to spend his days torturing his school friends and performing administrative tasks instead of tending to his ailing mother.

Nothing could make it any he was shaken awake by Severus Snape.

Narcissa had died.

* * *

Hermione however spent the night in a different sort of pain. Her body was stiff after being tied up for hours. The bruising beneath where her mask pressed throbbed gently as she sat in the dark, amidst the sweet smelling straw that covered the floor. She toyed with her locket earrings. She was plagued by doubts.

She'd had another crack at Malfoy as he dragged her unceremoniously from the foul interrogation room to the cell. However, the glamoured clown mask made him less than receptive.

"_Shut you nasty Mudblood face"_

"_Oh come on now, I'm sure you don't think me that nasty…" she had lisped, with extreme difficulty through her re-split lip._

Demeaning, but worth a try. Anyway he apparently _did_ find her that nasty and she had given up the attempt as a bad job.

Eventually she decided it would be wisest to sleep, so that she could be on fighting form in the morning. She had to fight now, more than ever.

* * *

"Have you owled my father?" Draco asked, numbly.

"…Yes." Replied Snape,

"He isn't coming home is he?"

"No."

"That fucking bastard! His wife is _dead_! My _mother_ Snape…" he shouted.

"I know."

Draco took a shuddering breath. "My mum." He said quietly.

Snape was not sure what he should do. He agreed with Draco… in principle. In practise it was very different. Luscious could not risk his living son to honour his already dead wife.

"He cannot return Draco, the Dark Lord has need of his services still."

"_I_ have need of his bloody services! _I'm _his son!"

"You must be strong Draco. You must. Now tomorrow we can discuss the funeral arrangements but tonight I think it best if we both go back to the manor and get some rest. " Snape said.

Draco shook his head.

"No. I am going back to work at the ministry in the morning."

"Draco, I really must insist-" began Snape

"Insist all you sodding well like, I'm going to work. " Said Draco flatly. "...I don't want to go home."

"I see."

"Yes."

"With your permission I shall floo back to the manor alone and begin preparations."

"As you wish."

"Draco, do not be too proud. Come to the manor soon. You must honour your mother. She loved you."

With his broken speech made, Snape rose from his chair and threw a handful of floo-powder into the Hearth.

"Malfoy Manor" he said.

And Draco was alone again. Sat holding the same firewhisky his godfather had poured him and staring into the empty hearth until he fell asleep.


	5. John & Jane

_And Draco was alone again. Sat holding the same firewhisky his godfather had poured him and staring into the empty hearth until he fell asleep._

Hermione was not exactly delighted by her meagre breakfast; a stale bun, evidently one from yesterday in the ministry canteen, and a glass of water. Really, she should be thankful she got anything at all, not least of all sleep, and she knew it.

She had read all about muggle interrogation techniques that had been used over the years as a result of researching witches when she was eleven. Sixteenth century witchfinders had used a variety of ways to make muggle women confess to witchcraft; sleep deprivation sounding the worst. It made you confess all sorts of secrets you normally never would. But then, she supposed, muggles had no Veriteserum.

Although, muggles did not always want the truth.

When she thought about it, she wasn't sure Witches and Wizards did either- just look at the sales figures for Witch Weekly.

Hermione had not been tied up today, but had had a fixing charm placed upon her, making it impossible to stand up from her chair until it was removed, though she could shift in it and move around almost unhindered; she just felt like a new born lamb whenever she attempted to stand. It was the sort of charm that had been banned in schools decades before. She fiddled with her earrings and waited.

It was eleven o'clock before Malfoy came to interview her. He looked dreadful. His usually sleek hair fell in his eyes, perhaps to disguise the obvious lack of sleep, and his ghostly skin was greyer than the glamour on her mask. If anything, the translucence of his skin made him look a little blue. He sat down on the other side of the table and leant back in his chair. He looked exhausted.

"You look awful Malfoy." She said gently.

"Shut _up_ you disgusting little _mudblood_. Don't talk. I have only come in here for a nap. I have other work to do besides interrogating the likes of _you_. Besides I already know everything they want me to find out. Muggleborn, Gryfindor, no Siblings, ties to undesirables, doesn't crack under the cruciatus"

"Came in here to _sleep_?" repeated Hermione, ignoring the rest of his speech. "Malfoy, why don't you just go home?"

"I can't, alright?" He burst out "Is that what you want to hear? That the infamous bouncing ferret has finally hit rock bottom? That he eats burnt food every night because he can't fucking cook. That he can't even go home to mourn his mother? Are you happy now? Now that I have got my just desserts and you can skip off with your army of Gryffindor losers…and get the fuck away from me! I don't need your pity! Bleeding heart Hermione comforts the fallen wizard is it? Get off me!"

Hermione was indeed comforting the broken hearted boy, having released herself with a silent incantation. She re-hid her wand and moved around the table to sit beside Malfoy. She almost couldn't believe her luck as she put a tentative arm around the boy that used to bully her at school. If the plan was going to have any hope of working, she had to use this, even if every fibre of her body screamed against her. It was wrong, wrong to use him like this when he was grieving… but she didn't feel like explainging to everyone back at Shell Cottage that she had had an attack of conscious.

"Malfoy," she said quietly, as he shrugged her arm off, "Malfoy, do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I fucking don't! Not with _you_ not with anyone."

_Shit_. She had to be clever about this.

"Well, " she said, slowly, "Why don't you and I pretend that we are two friends, who have known eachother a long time. You can be John and I shall be-"

"A mudblood no matter what you do!" interrupted Malfoy but Hermione could tell his heart wasn't in it _that time. _

"Yes, and bloody proud of it! Now shut up. You shall be John and I shall be Jane and we have known eachother for years and years." She spoke soothingly, her hand returning to rub his arm gently. "And you have come to visit and we are having tea."

"In a room that smells of blood?"

"…My husband is a butcher. A workaholic butcher who brings his work home most nights." Answered Hermione. "Honestly John, you know that."

Malfoy sniggered a little. Fuck it, he'd go along with it. She'd be dead soon anyway, mad witch.

"Well then Jane, where is the tea? I was promised sponge cake, bone china, loose leaf Assam…"

Hermione felt incredibly relieved. If she could get him to go along with this, she might have a chance of befriending him and then she had a small hope of success.

"Jane, where is the tea?" Malfoy asked again.

"You are a wizard aren't you John? Do you not know how to conjure such things?"

"Jane, you've met my charming wife, who does all the cooking, have you not? I don't need to know those spells."

"She is a smashing cook john, I'll give you that." Agreed Hermione, solemnly. Before adding, "But there's no reason you cant learn now!"

Malfoy grinned. " Fine, where do we start? "

"That's the Spirit. Now, we are going to have to do this old-school. By which I mean, roll up your sleaves john and try to remember our Transfiguration lessons! Take off you cufflinks."

"These cost a fortune! Use those stupid earrings of yours."

Hermione jumped slightly. He could _see_ them? Already! God she was good. Or Ron's spellwork was not as reliable as she could have hoped. Both were likely.

"Jane? Use your earrings..." prompted Malfoy.

"Er- no it doesn't work with …pewter."

He snorted at the cheapness of her jewellery and pulled off his cufflinks, throwng them onto the table.

"Good, give me your wand and I'll…"

"Oh no you don't! You just tell me what to do. I'm not handing you a wand."

Huffing Hermione, flicked her lank hair out of her eyes.

"Oh for gods sake, take that ridiculous thing off Granger."

Hermione did so almost immediately. If her attempt the night before had proven anything it was that her face was definitely a trump card in this situation. She turned her head away so as not frighten him off with the slightly disturbing sight of a plain woman, pulling her face off to reveal the beautiful one beneath. Hermione tugged at her hair and pulled the mask up over her head, Malfoy watch enchanted as her true face emerged. She really was breathtaking. It was a wonder he had never noticed.

"Gosh that's better," she sighed, shaking out her curls. "Now point your wand at your cufflink and make a stirring motion, like this-" Hermione mimed stirring with a wand and Malfoy copied. "And say _**vasio**_ and as you do lift raise you wand up vertically but keep the stirring motion. And make sure you really round the "oh" sound"

"_**Vasioh**_"

Malfoy's goblinmade silver cufflink, so finely made and expensive , began spinning with Malfoys wand movements and, a he raised his wand upwards, started to reshape, as though molded by some invisible Potter, until it came to rest, a _very_ crudely formed tea cup.

"That is awful, I'm not drinking out of that Granger."

"Who's Granger? Come on John, the next try will be better, you just overdid the "oh"."

"You do it then, if it's so simple." Said Malfoy thrusting his wand at her.

"I will John. But only because you ask so very sweetly. _**Vasio**_"

Although she had deliberately tempered her efforts so as not to outshine him too much, but her simple tea-cup was clearly better than his. Snatching back his wand Malfoy muttered, _knowitall._

He proceeded to attempt to improve his own make it a little more presentable. Having done this Malfoy looked up at her and grinned smugly.

When they had transfigured Hermione's cigarette lighter into a teapot-

"_I didn't know you smoked." Said Malfoy_

"_Of course you did John, we've been good friends for years."_

- and summoned milk and teabags from The kitchen in Malfoy's Flat-

"_Really Jane, making me summon my own tea, it's a poor show."_

-Draco conjured a jet of boiling water and filled the teapot.

"Now then John, wasn't that more fun than if it was already prepared?" asked Hermione.

"Granger, I am drinking tea from a cufflink, stewed in a lighter and stirred with the end of a pen. It is not exactly what I would call fun." He drawled.

"It is though, isn't it?" She said, cheekily. Despite himself he smiled.

"So, is this what life is like, on the run? Using what you can to get by"

"Sometimes… we don't usually bother with teapots and cufflinks though Malfoy. You just have to work with what you can find. This glamour of mine for example-"

"Ah yes, I was wondering about that. Why did you not just put a glamour on your face? Why bother with the mask at all?"

Hermione was glad at this point that she had shifted seats, so as not to be facing her interrogator, because she blanched.

"Oh er…" she said airily, "I wanted to be able to work it myself when I didn't have access to a mirror. You know, like hairdressers are always saying _I wish I could take my head off my shoulders and cut my own hair._ That sort of thing."

From where they were in the depths of level ten Hermione heard the faint chiming of a clock. She looked at the watch that draped her wrist. It had just gone twelve.

"So." She sighed.

"So." Answered Malfoy.

"Are we going to play John and Jane all afternoon, or would you like to tell me what happened to drive you down here to bear my company? Or perhaps you like hanging around in poky rooms with dirty walls"

Malfoy was silent for a long while. He stood up and wondered to the wall and stood staring at it, as though he were gazing out of a window. The room really was disgusting. The Spartan furniture, roughly made from wood, was ingrained with dirt and had been worn smooth by their years of service. They were probably only held up by magic. The floor was just as vile; layed with stain resistant carpet that was no longer as stain resistant as it once was, showed grisly marks that came in and out of view as the magic that kept them from sight grew tired. There were no windows, no mirrors, only a door.

He certainly didn't feel like playing anything in this room, except 'who-can-get-out-the-fastest'.

"My mother died last night." He murmered, without turning around.

"Oh." Said Hermione. "Oh Malfoy... I'm sorry."

"Why?" he asked, whipping around to face her. "Why would you be sorry? Was it _your_ fault?"

"Well, no but-"

"Did you _like_ her?"

"Well I can't say I was fond-"

"Well then shut up. Keep your pity, I don't need it." He spat, walking to the door to leave.

"Malfoy!" Hermione cried. She didn't know what else to say, he had his hand on the doorknob and was ready to leave her there.

Perhaps_ "Please god don't leave me down here Malfoy"_

Or_ "If you cannot help your mother, help me!" _maybe

but when Malfoy turned from the door to look at her she found herself rushing over to him and throwing her arms around his neck, crashing her lips into his.


	6. Narcissa

_...but when Malfoy turned from the door to look at her she found herself rushing over to him and throwing her arms around his neck, crashing her lips into his._

"Granger what the fuck are you doing!" he demanded, grabbing her by the wrists and pushing her a step back.

"Malfoy...I-"

She did not get a chance to finish her reply. Malfoys mouth had smothered her own again in a harsh and unpleasant kiss. Hermione tried in vain to dance a victory jig in her head. Malfoy was falling for the bait. However, she could not shake the guilty feeling that he was only kissing her because he was grieving and she was using this to her advantage. She felt dispicable; greater good be damned.

Her traitorous hands rose to his collar and her lips parted a little, allowing Malfoys tongue to push past them. It was certainly not like kissing Ron. But then, Ron was wonderful and Malfoy was... Malfoy.

He pulled away suddenly, as if he had been hit by a stinging hex. Hermione yelped as he picked her up and walked over to the table.

"Malfoy!" she tried to use her sternest tone of voice, but he clearly wasn't listening.

Terrified, Hermione landed in her original seat with a bump.

"_**Habitum**_" said Malfoy, tonelessly. He had replaced the fixing charm. Hermione was filled with dread.

"Malfoy don't..."

"What's the matter Granger, are you scared?" Malfoy mocked, as he turned to pick up her alarming looking mask- still shaped like the plain Hermione, having not had it's glamours removed.

He pulled it roughly over her head and walked out, leaving her alone to await the guard.

"Oh fuck." Said Hermione.

Malfoy went home. Not to his flat in London but to Malfoy Manor; where his mothers body lay. He rushed through the front door in an awful mess. His hair was plastered to his face and neck with rain, his sleeves gaped where his cufflinks were missing and his thin blue robes of a ministry official clung to his body like rags. He had apparated to the boundary of the manor and rushed, through the pouring rain, to his mother.

He had not bothered to return to his office and fetch his cloak, his cufflinks lay forgotten on level ten and he had shoved Alfred Grompton –his "boss"- out of his way in his effort to get to the street where he might apparate home.

"_Where do you think your going Malofy? –Ooof!- Get back here!"_

Malfoy had pushed several other witches and wizards out of his path. If the Ministry couldn't keep the floo network running properly, it was not _his_ fault if a couple of workers got jostled a little. He was in a fucking hurry!

Taking the black marble stairs of Malfoy manor two at a time, Draco rushed to his mothers bedroom.

Having reached the door however, he slowed to a stop and opened it tentatively. He felt just as he had done when he had been allowed to visit his mother, all those years ago, after the miscarriage of what would have been a sister. Sunlight glowed through the sheer fabric of the Summer curtains, which billowed in the gentle breaze. It had been a week since his mother took to her bed and she was then strong enough to sit up and read.

"_Draco! You have come to see you mama at last!"_

"_I wanted to come sooner!" he protested, "I tried, but father and the healer both said I couldn't."_

"_I know my love, don't worry yourself." She breathed, patting the bed for him, to climb up next to her. "What have you been doing with yourself while I have been unwell?"_

"_Playing Dark Wizards with Crabbe and Goyle."_

_Narcissa smiled indulgently and shook her head with love. "Whatever shall I do with you? Would you like to read with me for a little while?"_

"_Yes." He replied before adding, "I'm always the proper Dark Wizard mama, Crabbe and Goyle don't do it right, so I just make them be my assistants. I'm much better at it." _

"_Of course you are! My Draco is good at everything he does. What would you like to read?"_

_Draco paused. "Am I not going to have a little brother or sis-"_

"_I think this book about mountain Trolls, don't you" she asked in a loud strangled voice. _

_Draco nodded silently._

She had been thin, but soft and warm and had put her arms around him while she read aloud about trolls.

Now the room was dark and an Autumn chill was plainly felt. The rain outside ran down the windows, tracing watery shadows across the dim floor and drowning out the silence. Draco walked numbly to the bed where the body of his mother lay, covered by a sheet. He remembered when that cold, unmoving corpse still breathed. He sat down beside her and stroked her hair. He had never noted the heat in it before he felt the chilly pale blond strands that spread around her on the pillow. He pulled the cool sheets up to her chin and tucked the counterpane around her. He knelt beside the bed watching her for a long while. He had never seen a peaceful corpse before. She could have been sleeping... if had breathed a little. It would be sick to charm her body to breath... wouldn't it? No, it definately would.

He smoothed her cheek softly and wept.

Draco stayed at the manor for the rest of the day. He ate a house-elf cooked meal and slept in his old bedroom. But he was still alone. He owled the ministry to say that he would not be coming to work until his mother had been properly buried. He had been tempted to recommend that Granger be assigned to another to deal with, but changed his mind at the last minute.


	7. Where the Fuck have you been!

_He owled the ministry to say that he would not be coming to work until his mother had been properly buried. He had been tempted to recommend that Granger be assigned to another to deal with, but changed his mind at the last minute._

Malfoy returned to work on Friday. He say numbly listening to Alfred Grompton attempt a show of sympathy whilst still berating him for rushing out on Wednesday.

_"I know you had had a shock Draco my boy, but we must still remember our duty to the ministry and to each other. I completely understand my dear boy, and if it were up to me I'd have you take the week off...but the powers that be old chap...the powers that be." _

Malfoy had thought he hated Potter. He had thought he hated Moody. But it just didn't compare to how much he hated Alfred Grompton. The man was vile; gnarled and stunted like a tree grown on a cliff-face, straining its hunched branches up to seek the sunlight. Everyone was like that at the ministry. Maybe not as physically repelling, but they all reached with grasping fingers towards the glory of their Dark Lord.

_He's your Lord too Draco Malfoy_ said a nasty voice in Malfoy's head_._

_'No he isn't!'_

When Grompton was finished with his sympathetic attack, Malfoy returned to his desk. It was in disarray. It appeared that, instead of shouldering some of the slack, or getting a temp to cover for him, the work had simply been allowed to pile up. Files for copying, invoices to be verified and sent, letter upon unopened letter and, worst of all, payroll confirmation slips- unsigned- had yet to be sent. Malfoy did not want to envision what might have happened if he had not come in till Monday. Probably a wizards lynching- if nobody had been paid.

Malfoy spent the entire of the morning catching up with the payroll, making alterations to various officials calendars and wondering whether a parchment-cut to the throat would be enough to kill himself.

When at last he had nearly reached the bottom of a towering pile of memo's, some of which had attempted to escape through the window as he disturbed them, he recognised one from Yaxely. His large and spiky handwriting, dotted with ink-blots and misspellings, said;

_Malfoy_

_Howe much have you goten out of that mudblud I put you in charge of? None of the guards have heard anythin from the interogation room. I am hopeing this means she has been giving information willinly, and without perswasun._

_We do not tolerayte soft-touches in my dept. Malfoy. Pull your wand out and get on with it! We need to know where her assoshiates are hiding out. If you have not gotten this information by this afternoon, i will expec you to come in on Saturday._

_She is to be sent for processing by the muggleborn register on Sunday._

_You'd better have somthing by then Malfoy or i might just send you with her!_

_Yaxley._

Malfoys blood ran cold, "Sent for processing" made her sound like reclaimed meat. Granger may be... what was she? She wasn't against him personally. Sure she'd fucked about when he tried to fill in the forms... but _everybody_ fucked about when he tried to fill in the forms. _Any_ forms. And she had been kind to him when nobody else was. When Snape had left him to brood and... well Snape was the only other person that had even offered his condolances. But had Draco been the prisoner and she the interogator it was unlikely he would have stroked her arm soothingly and made her tea in a cufflink.

Malfoy made his way to level 10 on autopilot. Staring straight ahead of him and not talking to anyone he knew. He tried not to think but his steps seemed to beat out the rhythm.

_Cru-Cia-tus Cru-Cia-tus Cru-Cia-tus _

He reached his destination all too soon. The guards stopped talking as he approached. They straightened up and watched respectfully as he held his hand to the enchanted panel that would admit him. The lock clicked and Malfoy walked in.

"Hello Her-" Malfoy was interrupted by a crudely made cup crashing against the wall beside his head. He shut the door hurridly.

"Where the fuck have _you_ been Draco Malfoy!" screeched a tired and pale looking witch. Wriggling in the chair he had magically fixed her to on Wednesday.

Wriggling in the chair she was _still_ magically fixed to.

"What?" he asked, guileless as Ron.

"You _left_ me here! You left me here to _rot_ in this hateful little room!"

"Why didn't you call the guard then you idiot?"

"You're not serious?" she asked. "I _did_ call the fucking guards! They just laughed at me and turned the lights on and off for about _four hours! _The doors _charmed_ Malfoy! No-one can get in or out without your say so. Why the hell didn't you tell anyone I was here? Did you think I might tell you something if you left me for two days with nothing to do but starve at watch the stains come and go on this grisly carpet! Why didn't you just-"

"What the fuck!" exploded Malfoy, angry for being so abused by aprisoner and guilty for having forgotten, "You're a _prisoner _Granger. did you expect linen table cloths and a maitre-de?"

"I expected not to-"

"Just shut up! I'm sorry alright? I didn't mean to!"

"Whatever Malfoy, just get me some water for Christ's sake!"

Resisting the urge to send a jet of aguamentied water right in her face, he picked up the as yet unbroken cufflink cup and filled it with his wand. Hermione snatched it from his hand and drank it in one.

"Very Impressive." he sneered.

she coughed and held the cup out for him to refill. "You should see me drink Firewhisky."

Malfoy laughed.

"You're not quite how i remember you Gra- _Hermione. _The frizzy Gryffindor I knew wouldn't have touched the stuff. And the smoking. When did all that happen?"

"Ah Malfoy, life on the run teaches you to enjoy such dubious pleasures." she replied like an old sage.

"I doubt you can run very far with a hangover. Or very far at all for that matter, if you smoke." replied Malfoy, hoping that she might slip up and tell him about their head-quarters.

She didn't.

"Oh don't be so literal Malfoy."

He took his seat opposite her and suddenly a thought struck him:

"You're still fixed to that chair?"

"Obviously."

"How did you get up last time?"

Hermione paled beneath her wan mask. She was relieved he wouldn't see it. Keeping her breathing steady and her eyes on the table she replied.

"I don't know." _think Hermione think. _"You...were upset and I wanted to comfort you. Have you never done accidental magic?"

Malfoy shrugged and the two were silent once again.

_'Oh god. He nearly caught me out there! Oh I knew this would be too risky! Why did I listen to Moody? Or Lupin Or Ron! Nobody should ever listen to Ron. I can't believe I agreed to this. God what would he do if he found my wand? This is impossible! I'll never get him on side!'_

_"Oh Merlin. Look at her! The picture of strength and innocence. Bloody Gryffindors . After all I've ever said to her, all I've done! Letting deatheaters into Hogwarts, getting that mad bastard Dumbledore killed... And all I've not done! Doing nothing while my mad aunt crucioed her into tommorow...she still felt so bad for me she could release herself wandlessly. I couldn't torture someone like that. I couldn't listen to her scream, not again...Well...it might be easier if she kept that bloody mask on.'_

"Take that stupid thing off Granger."

Hermione's hand jumped to her wrist, where the large wizards watch still lay hidden by her sleeve.

"What?" she asked in a strangled voice.

"That clown mask. Where on earth did you find it?"

"The Pied Peddler." she replied distactedly

"What's _the pied pedlar_?" asked Malfoy, dubiously.

"It's a muggle toyshop. And before you start scribbling things down it's not a hideout of ours."

"Odd how that would be exactly what you'd say if it _was _your hideout."

"Whatever. Anyway. Colin apparated us there once when we came under sudden attack. It's in the town he grew up in. You know, it's quite bizarre what muggles find entertaining..."

"You _are_ a muggle, Granger. You had the same toys as they did." said Malfoy...with a sneer.

"Oh come on Malfoy don't be such a prat. anyway, during the attack that hateful Fenrir Greyback who bit Remus and Bill turned up and was even more leering and unsettling than usual. So Bill insisted that Fluer wear a glamour in future."

"I can see why."

"Quite. Anyway., Ron held up my clown mask and asked if that would do ... joking of course-"

"Of course."

"But it gave me the idea. so here there it is today." Hermione finished brightly gesturing

"I see. Why the bedazzling Hex then?"

_oh fuck._

"what do you mean?" she asked innocently.

"Why the bedazzling hex if you were all glamoured up to the nines?"

_I knew this wouldn't work. Oh merlin i knew he was too quick! Why couldn't this be Goyle or something?_

"How... else would we... "

"Granger?"

"Erm.."

"I have to know Granger! Come On...Hermione, please? Yaxley wants me to torture you but I can't." his breathing was ragged and he was obviously barely keeping hysteria at bay. "I just can't... And they'e sending you to the MR on Sunday and I need to have something by then."

This had been exactly what Hermione had wanted. This was exactly what Snape had said would happen. Exactly how Lupin had told her to play it, but she was still furious.

"So you'll deliver me into their hands happily enough, but _yourelf_? Oh no. All of a sudden we're _friends._ I have to help you do I? Well I'll tell you one thing Draco Malfoy you fucking ferrety coward, I'll help you when you man up and stop being such a selfish brat who wouldn't know decency if it jumped up and hexed him!"

"Man up?" answered Malfoy, with a dangerous softness. "Man up! I'll show you!" he was out of control. He could feel his grip on himself, the one he had clung to desperately when Voldemort invaded his house, his school, his family, slipping away. It was terrifying and exhilerating at the same time. He let go.

Reaching for his wand, standing up and knocking back his chair he pointed his wand at Hermione and cried,

"**_Crucio_**!"


	8. Get your coat love

_Reaching for his wand, standing up and knocking back his chair he pointed his wand at Hermione and cried,_

_"**Crucio**!"_

"Draco Malfoy, you little shit!" gasped Hermione; the curse had not worked.

The effect of the attempted curse was the same as if he had fired a gun in her face, only to find it was empty. Hermione couldn't believe he had really, actually done it. Snape had said she would be in no danger.

_'Yeh well, Snape also said dogs can't look up.'_ thought Hermione, bitterly.

Malfoy backed away from her and attempted to sit down. Unfortunately his chair had been knocked over during his rage. He staggered backwards, tripping over the chairlegs and landing awkwardly, painfully, on both the chair and his coccyx.

"Fucking OW!" he yelped.

Hermione did not get up to help him.

"Oh does it _hurt_ Malfoy? Are you in _pain? Oh how unfortunate"_ she sneered.

"Fuck off Granger." he bit out, still on the floor and waiting out the pain. It would have to fade eventually. And it would be amazing when it was gone. Perhaps that what Granger focused on when she was under the cruciatus curse...

"Well release me and I will gladly oblige you in that."

"Very- _ow_- funn- _ow_- y" said Malfoy as he got up. "You will be on your way soon enough." The pain wasn't going away. It still really fucking hurt. It was like someone had filled his back and knees and elbows with hot and heavy lead; stinging and dragging him down at once. The silly witch was not making things better. Malfoy was leaning on the table trying to breath steadily through gritted teeth while she went on... and on... _and on_

_"Oh yes, I'm going off to the MR aren't I? Gosh well I had better start talking! I wouldn't want you to have nothing to show to your superiors. Heavens no. We couldn't have the Pureblood rich boy pride of Slytherin suffer so! Why tell you what. Give me a quill and I'll write out undesirable in my acquaintance's address and then I'll.."_

Why wouldn't she stop talking? It wasn't like it was his fault. Ok, he had tried to crucio her... but he hadn't actually done it! He obviously hadn't _meant _it. God his back hurt. And she was still talking. Still calling him a coward. Still extolling the virtues he could never hope to have. It wasn't his fault if self-preservation was so undesirable in contrast to her wonderful gryffindor loyalty.

Hermione Granger: good at everything.

Too good at everything.

Girl with the golden touch.

Well he was better than her at potion brewing- that much he remembered-... and he was probably much better on a broom, he was richer and had better blood...

'_Fuck it.'_ he thought. _'I'll show her I can be just self-sacrificing and brave as anyone. Just as arrogant and fool-hardy as any Gryffindor idiot. I'll bloody show her what I can do!'_

He wanted, in that moment, nothing more than to show Hermione Granger he could be good if he wanted. It seemed that, if he could be good, everything wrong he had ever done -everything underhand or selfish- had been a choice. He wanted her to think that he had some modicum of control over his life.

"Get your mask on." He rasped.

"Why? Are you running away again Malfoy?"

Malfoys already weak grasp on himself broke again and he found himself forcing the glamoured latex face violently over Hermione's.

"Mmhmmph! You're mmph hurting!"

Malfoy relished that a little too much. He pulled the mask into position and covered the thin mouth with his hand. Hermione resisted the urge to bite him, just.

"If I give you my wand can I trust you to do nothing with it than perform a Bedazzling Hex?" he hissed in her rubber ear. Hermione nodded even while she debated how easily she could get out of the room with him dead.

'_You can't kill him Hermione! We need him, we need his blood. Well... perhaps if you just took a little back...no. Just do as he says. For now.'_ she thought.

"Good. Now I am going to give you this wand." he held it up to her face to illustrate the point. "And you will hex yourself invisible. Then we are going to walk out of the ministry, very calmly. You will hold onto my arm and walk directly behind me, so nobody walks into you. You've no doubt had lost of practise under Potters invisibility cloak." Hermione nodded again. "Then you are going to come home with me. Is that understood? Any questions?" he removed his hand and straightened up. The pain in his back had almost gone. It was, as he had expected, an incredible feeling not to be in pain any more. It's absence was a pleasure in it's own right.

"No questions." answered Hermione. "Lets go."


	9. Shell Cottage

**A FEW DAYS EARLIER: SHELL COTTAGE**

Hermione stood in the garden of Shell cottage, watching a large game of quidditch. Bill Weasley was speeding towards the single goal- a tree branch which Neville had spent a month charming and growing into a large hoop - with the Quaffle tucked under his arm. Ron flew from side to side, anticipating which way Bill would aim it.

Hermione cheered with the others when he saved it. Ron looked down and grinned proudly.

"Alright Hermione?" he called.

She nodded and called back, "Snape's nearly here. Molly wants you all to come in."

Ron rolled his eyes and a murmur of malcontent went through the air as young people began landing all around her.

"There's a cake." she added.

The tone of the the mumbles changed. They became lighter, in a _oh well that's alright then_ sort of way. Everyone trudged into the house. Hermione and Ron lagged behind a little.

"How long till Snape gets here do you think?"

"About five minutes I think. He's always horrifically punctual."

"Mmmm. He is a bit isn't he? The old git. Well, you shall just have to make do with a quick snog round the back of the house before we go in." said Ron with teasing solemnity.

Hermione laughed and pushed him away saying something that sounded a lot like "Ron! Honestly..." but may well have actually have been "Ronestly."

* * *

Inside the house all the best seats had already been taken. There was already four to every chair and three to a shelf. Snape had evidently arrived and sat squished between Fred and George, and was glancing warily at each of them in turn, while Mrs Weasley sat on the arm of the sofa and watched both twins like a hawk.

"Is everyone sitting comfortably?" shouted Arthur Weasley across the din.

They all exchanged looks. It was clearly weird that Ron was practically on Moody's lap and that Hermione actually _was_ on Collins. That a row of Hufflepuffs perched on one of the shelves and that Hagrid sat cross legged on a beanbag that looked like it might explode at any moment. Nobody pointed this out however so Arthur continued.

"Good, then I'll begin. As we all know Snape has come for-"

"A natter and a nice piece of cake?" interrupted one of the twins which flanked Snape like bookends, squished in either side of him on a creaking armchair.

Snape huffed indignantly.

"No, Fred and or George. I have come for the weekly meeting." he snapped.

"Quite right." said Arthur, with a genial far-away look that suggested he was more used to the interruptions of his two sons than Snape was. "He is here for the weekly meeting. Today he has said he has news of _'particular import'_ which I think I'll let him explain."

The room became hushed as tension and excitement filled the air. What had Snape found out this time? Was it nearly over?... Were they going to win?

"I have Narcissa Malfoy on side." Snape said, with such dramatic graveness that it might have been funny, coming from any other being. "She has agreed to drink a draught of Deathly Sleep, which I have already begun brewing. My hope... my _plan_ is that we may yet drive Draco over to our side."

"By faking his mothers death? I know he's a git but isn't that a bit much?" asked Ron, earning a clip round the ear from Moody, who's lap he was rapidly slipping onto.

"We need his blood boy!" he barked, "We'll never find he-who-must not be named-"

"I thought we agreed on Voldie?" chimed in Colin Creevy from behind Hermione. Indeed there had been a vote and "Voldie" had been decided the new term of reference for Voldemort, in lieu of the Taboo.

"All those in favour?" asked Moody wearily.

"I." responded the room, apart from Snape who sat looking like Dobby had mooned him.

"Fine." growled Moody. "We need that young man's blood to scry for his father and as such... find _... voldie._"

"Why can't we just stab him?" asked Seamus Finnigan.

Snape's features were becoming darker by the minute. Seeing this, Harry moved to diffuse the situation.

"Seamus that's enough. Malfoy may not be best of wizards but we cannot go around stabbing people... if we can avoid it. The real question is why Snape can't just pretend to cut him accidentally and bring us a bit. Or kidnap him outright."

Snape smirked. Potter strikes again.

"You need a lot more blood than that for scrying Harry." answered Hermione. "And Snape cannot bring Malfoy here without blowing his cover as our spy."

"With his mother gone, my hope is that Draco will have no reason to remain in the service of the Dark Lord." continued Snape.

"You mean 'voldie'" said George.

"I'm not saying that." said Snape flatly.

"Come on Snapey, fear of the name and all that." Said Ron, his mouth full of cake. "Take the piss, you'll feel better for it."

"Er..." broke in Hermione, "Maybe in his own time, hey Ron? What's the rest of the plan Snapey- er... I mean, Snape?"

Huffing a little, Snape carried on. "I want to put a mole in the ministry. Draco is often made to interrogate Hogwarts students."

Eyes glanced towards Lee Jorden who suddenly seemed to find his watch very interesting.

"So they will have access to him to persuade him to join our side. Once they have brought him here, we can scry for Lucious."

Silence. Everybody looked dubious.

"That sounds very dangerous." said Lupin. "How can you be sure Draco Malfoy will not harm our mole?"

"Draco isn't a monster." said Lee, he spoke very quietly but the effect was as if he had cast a sonorous charm. "He never did anything to me himself. He kept Yaxley and Macnair out for weeks. We chatted about quidditch most of the time really...Whoever we send will have time enough."

"We would need to vote to decide who is sent." said Lupin. "Anybody who wants to volunteer can come and give me their name before this evening. We'll vote on it then."

* * *

"Oh fuck _off_..."

"Ron-" Began Harry, who had suggested while the four of them -Ron, Hermione, Ginny and himself- walked into the village on an errand for Molly, that Hermione volunteer.

"No Harry! Why the bloody hell do you think she should do it? I mean, I'm not being funny but Hermione's a muggleborn! She would be in an awful position to try and win Malfoy over."

"I'm sorry Harry, I agree with Ron." sighed Hermione, kicking a stone. "It wouldn't make any sense for me to go. I mean, Malfoy has _hated_ me since I first met him! The first thing he said to me was _'Oi Longbottom I've found your toad' _and that was even before he new I was muggleborn. It just wouldn't work."

If she thought she stood half a chance of success, she would have volunteered readily but the facts were against her.

"I don't think we should send Ginny either. " she added

"Oh not you too Hermione!" huffed Ginny.

"Sorry Gin, but you'd be on the back foot with him as much as I would. He probably wouldn't have bullied me quite so much if I hadn't been Harry's best friend. Your being Harry's _girlfriend_ would definitely not help matters."

"I don't think you and Malfoy had even _spoken_ before Gin, so it's not like you know him well enough to overcome that." added Harry. He didn't want to admit it- but his keenness to send anyone but Ginny, even if that anyone was his best friend, was because he didn't want to lose her.

Ginny blushed a little. "Well I played him at Quidditch once or twice... not first name terms or anything... " she coughed nervously but luckily an approaching car took attention away from her and they all went to walk in single file while it passed.

* * *

"Hermione? Can I talk to you?" asked Ginny quietly. The four had split up to get the groceries faster, still remaining in two's for safety.

"Of course you can Ginny..." she replied uncertainly. "What's wrong?"

"I... I think you should volunteer too. When I do."

"Ginny, I really don't think you should-"

"For Merlin's sake! Look Hermione... I can't really explain my reasons... but I know I could get Draco on side within the hour!"

"But Ginny, you don't even _know_ him!"

"Look Hermione... I just _know_ alright? You'll have to trust me. But... you could do it just as easily I think. Not as fast... but Hermione he'd do anything for you."

"For me? Gin... what the fuck?"

Ginny flushed. "Er, I mean you could get him to do anything if you're clever about it."

"Oh right."

"Yeah..." Ginny looked at her shoe for a moment and scuffed it against the pavement. "Look Hermione... it's you or me. Nobody else could manage it."

"Well that's unfortunate because neither of us are going. Gin it wouldn't be safe for you there. As Harry Potter's girlfriend they'd kill you straight off the bat. "

The red haired witch thought for a moment.

"I'll promise _not_ to volunteer... if you promise _you will_."

* * *

"Miss Weasley please tell me you are joking. Please tell me you have been spending too much time with your brothers and are just playing a trick on your dear old Potions Master."

"I'm not joking." she replied.

"Have you taken leave of your senses?"

"No. Look, my reasoning is-"

"I sincerely doubt there is any _reason_ in your head witch!"

* * *

Hermione was all but unanimously voted in as the mole. Nobody was in any doubt that the notoriously clever Hermione Granger- close friend of Harry Potter- would be able to achieve the impossible. She herself was not so sure she could do it but Ginny had asked her to trust her. She had also threatened to run off in the middle of the night and hand herself in to the Deatheaters if Hermione didn't agree to co-operate. Hermione still thought it a little extreme to threaten her like that but she was not going to deny she was a little excited at the idea of her new mission.

She was a little less excited however, when Parvati and Lavender appointed themselves in charge of hair and make-up.

"Hair and make-up! Lavender get off me! Are you two insane? I'm a mole not a honey-trap! You're _hurting_"

"Well, don't struggle then. It couldn't hurt to look your best, could it?"asked Lavender, forcing Hermione's head over the bath and ran it under the tap.

"It's too hot! At least use the shower head!" yelped Hermione, fighting free of the vice-like grip of Lavender Brown and backing away to the corner of the bathroom, where Padma was waiting to restrain her.

"Fine I'll use the shower, but you must agree to co-operate."

"Oh honestly Lavender, don't be so dramatic." she turned to her last point of appeal, "Ginny tell them. This is lunacy."

Ginny bit her lip to suppress a grin. "Well, Malfoy certainly would be easier to handle if..."

"If what," Forgetting herself, Hermione put her hands on her hips in a bid to look severe. Unfortunately her weak pose gave Parvati the split second she needed to cast a full body bind curse on her. Lavender caught her as she fell.

Together they angled her over the bath and washed her hair with the hair potion Ginny brewed for herself. The girls each noted the rapid blinking of Hermione's furious eyes, ever moving around in her head, watching them carefully and appearing to note everything they each were doing.

"I don't think this was a good idea. I think she might do something nasty to us later."

"It's okay Pad, I know Hermione. It'll probably be something so fiendishly clever we never even realise. Don't worry." whispered Parvati

After they had stood her against the sink, they cast a drying spell on her hair. Although incredibly shiny, it was still wild.

"I was so sure it would work!" muttered Ginny. "It does a fantastic job on mine. Dammit. Lavender, get Luna and Neville."

"Neville? Luna! What in the world for?"

"I need Dirigible Plums juice, which I believe Luna has in gallons...and I need Neville because-"

A voice at the door interrupted them.

"Every woman _needs_ Neville."

The girls all whipt round, apart from Hermione who's eyes seemed to relax a little as they settled on the speaker.

"Ron, get out!" shrieked Ginny. "This is girls stuff."

"Oh, but as luck would have it you _need_ Neville? He's a great bloke but the way you all faun over him is..." Ron caught sight of Hermione. "What the bloody hell are you doing to her!"

Her hair was shining like polished glass and standing on end, while she herself was balanced against the sink like a plank. Hastily lifting the spell, Ron placed himself between Hermione and her captors, the witches proceeded to duel around him.

"What is -_ouch!- _going on up here? Why, other than the usual reasons do you need Neville?"

"What _usual reasons_ would those be Ronald?" snapped Ginny, carefully ducking one of Hermione's hexes- '_why did nobody think to take her wand?'- _and tripping a little over her feet.

"Hermione calm down." said Ron. "I mean the _usual reasons_! You can't find the plant you need , you can't seem to cast a shield charm properly, what is his opinion on-"

"Yes, yes! Alright Ron! Will you please get her wand!"

"No." he replied simply.

"Wimp. Ow! Oh come on Hermione! Please? Ouch! Ow ow ow! Canaries?? Really?? Who attacks with canaries!?"

"Who immobilises people to wash their hair!" answered Hermione angrily, sending another squadron of angry canarys at Ginny.

"We were only trying to help!" squealed Lavender.

"Ginny I am _not_ a wimp, I just happen to think she's right. What the bloody hell were you doing to her? Her hairs fine, _I like it_."

"Ronald if you think I am right then _help _me and stop leaning on the door frame like it's the nineteen fifties!"

"I never get involved in ladies affairs darling," called Ron over the din, "you know that. Anyway, I'll get Neville." Turning to face the landing, Ron raised his voice and called down the stairs, "NEVIIILLLE! THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING OVER YOU!"

"Oh yeah that's it, _tell on us_! huffed Ginny, as she dove at Hermione in a bid to interrupt the flow of canarys.

"Listen Gin, there's no shame in running to Neville. Before Neville punched it Diagonally was-"

"Horizont-alley, yes Ron I _know, I made it up!_ Think up your own!"

The scuffle continued for a few moments, until Neville apparated with a _pop_.

"What's happening?" he gasped. The girls were locked in deadly combat, apart from Lavender who had been hit by a jelly-legs jinx and was trying desperately to crawl for safety, while Padma fought off attacking bat-bogeys, which Ginny had mistakenly hit her with, and attempted hex Hermione into submission. Hermione however, beacon headed and though she was, seemed to have no problem maintaining a protective shield even while she had Ginny, who's own hair was flashing brightly in rainbow colours, in a head lock and was delightedly covering her with bright green pimples.

"Girls STOP IT!" Neville shouted. Suddenly, quiet fell on the bathroom as the fighting females looked up at Neville. Ginny's hair continued to flash, but the bat bogeys seemed a little more docile.

"What are you all fighting for?"

"We, erm..we were trying to help. Make her look a bit... you know... erm. Sorry Nevvy." said Lavender.

"Well _I'm not_!" spat Ginny, a canary feather still stuck to her lip. "She should have just gone along with it. If we could make her look even a smidge prettier it'll help her in the long-run. Malfoy's a shallow ferret. He'll be easier to handle if he fancies her."

"You may have a point..." sighed Neville.

* * *

_'That bloody Harry Potter will be the end of me! He has a point though. But how could I possibly be prettier to Malfoy... but not so to all the other deatheaters? There's not time for a complex spell... I don't know of any that would work... How can I make it so only he sees beneath the glamour? Maybe I could wear a mask, that stupid clown mask of Ron's. I've never seen him so fascinated by anything muggle before. Ha Ha, that would be funny, excuse the red nose Draco, I've got a nicer one underneath...Although... I could just glamour the mask I suppose...'_

Hermione burst into the packed sitting room. A deathly hush fell as everybody stopped talking about her.

Meanwhile, upstairs the girls guiltily removed Hermione's hexes and began to make their way downstairs after her leaving Ron and Neville.

Ron sighed and seated himself on the edge of the bath.

"She'll be alright wont she Nev?" he asked from behind his hands, head bowed.

"She's tough Ron. She's clever than anyone. And she'll take a port-key with her, she'll be fine.

"Oh she's taking more than a port-key! She'll be taking the whole Hogwarts express with her before I let them send her off! She'd do the exact same for me. If it hadn't been for her... I don't know how many times me and Harry would have been caught or killed. I'll do everything in my power to help her. Even if I have to learn to be a dormouse animagous by morning and hide in her pocket!"

Neville sat down beside him. "No-ones as clever as Hermione. I think she'll be okay."

Ron fiddled with the sleeve of his robe. It was a fine dressrobe, the like of which few wizards could ever hope to see, let alone afford. A gift from Madame Malkine, when she had hid them in her shop for a night. He would once have done anything for such a first-rate robe, but now he didn't even care. He didn't care about being poor, or about not being as clever as Hermione or famous as Harry. He had grown up, he supposed. He preferred the cheap muggle shoes he wore to his high-cost robe. He too had foregone the army boots, preferring his muggle shoes. Colin Creavy had laughed when he saw them. Apparently in the muggle world nearly everyone their age wore Converselys. Ron quite liked that.

He looked up at Neville and smiled a bit.

"She'll probably single-handedly save us all, my Hermione."

"Don't let her hear you call her that."

"Yeah, I'm in love Nev, I'm not stupid. Speaking of which-" they headed downstairs to join the others in the debate. "Have you noticed how Moody is around your Grandmother?"

"Don't tell anyone Ron, But he gave her a bunch of weeds on Saturday. I think he's trying to win her over."

"...That's um..."

"Wrong? Yeah I know. Granny Longbottom and Mad-eye... I literally don't know where I'd hide..."

* * *

Ron stayed up all night with the order members and Luna, charming a multi-purpose port-key that would not only bring her home in seven days, but would also serve as a communications device, like Hermione's D.A. coins. Ron remained hard at work even as the others came down for breakfast. He wanted to put every single protective charm known on it. He also charmed the birthday present he had bought for Hermione. He had obviously been waiting for her birthday to give it to her but decided it was better to leave her to sleep than burst into her room, which she shared with several others, to get something similar. The pair of locket earrings which Ginny had chosen for him were beyond perfect. He had put an undetectable extension charm on it- having practised on tomatoes first- which would allow a whole wand to be hidden in them, as well as his put-outer. He then spent the rest the morning putting charms upon the port-key and earrings that would make them unnoticeable to anyone with evil intentions towards Hermione. Even if they stripped her naked they would not see them. Ron didn't want to think about them stripping her naked. Hopeful the safety charms, which would activate the port-key and abort the mission, would bring her home long before they got chance.

* * *

When Snape returned the next day Hermione was ready. Hermione had swapped her elegant blue robe for Luna's more practical pink cut-off robe and muggle trousers. Ron had insisted on that. Trousers, he reasoned, were a lot more safer than a robe. Hermione had wanted to laugh at him, and was a little irritated that he did not think she could protect herself, but she had held her tongue. She knew it was only because he loved her that he was being such a prat. Ron had presented her with her early birthday present early that morning, while the other D.A. members had been taken for a cross country run by Harry.

"Oh Ron they're beautiful!" she had exclaimed. "But you should have waited for my birthday. I'll be back long before then. This might all even be over by then."

"Ahah, my dear, you underestimate me. Look inside them."

Giving Ron a suspicious but delighted look, she opened one.

"Why it's empty! Hold on a minute; I can't see the back... Oh! Oh you clever wizard! An extension charm!"

"It is indeed. I practised on tomatoes. You should have seen mum trying to chop them for lunch! She couldn't work out where the knife was going. I don't think I've laughed so much since she caught Ginny and Harry copping off behind the-"

"Oh Ronestly! I don't need to hear about _that_ again." laughed Hermione.

"Ha ha, okay love. Anyways look, you can fit a whole wand in them! And look in the other one... No, you'll have to shake it a bit to get it out... yeah like that."

"Your put-outer? Wow, thank you Ron." exclaimed Hermione.

"Yeah, it is only a loan..." said Ron hurriedly as she replaced the device.

"Oh for God's sake, I know _that_. Ha ha. Come and give me a kiss-"

"Wait a minute, if you can, I've got one last present..." Ron started taking off his gold watch.

"Oh come on, I don't need a lovers token! I'll be back in a week. How will you tell the time?"

"Well there are clocks in the house" huffed Ron. "Anyway, it's not just a token, it's the port-key to bring you home." Ron finished undoing the fastening and took the watch off with a flourish. "...Hermione? Are you alright? Why are you crying? Please stop. Look We can make another one..." Ron started putting his watch back on, desperate to stop the tears which were now in full flow from cascading down her cheeks.

"Don't you dare!" she cried, snatching the watch out of his hands and clutching it to her heart. "It's wonderful Ron! Really, I'm just going to miss you. I love you so much..." she said, throwing her arms round him and burying her wet face in his neck. Ron stroked her hair, on which the Derigible Plums juice had indeed worked wonders (after Neville added a clover tincture to it) and murmured sweet nothings in her ear.

* * *

Snape too came bearing gifts. He had managed to get hold of a large pair of Dragonshide boots on the black market.

"I'm sorry they are so ...big." he said regretfully, as he and Hermione sat alone in the hallway, waiting for the others to get ready. "Unfortunately the spiv I bought them from was not the best stocked wizard..."

"Snape they're fine, really. I'll just get Fluer to shrink them down a bit. She's very good at seamstress spells." Hermione reassured him.

But Snape remained feeling inadequate. Even after they had been shrunk by Fluer, a little distractedly in Snapes opinion, and Hermione had given him a perfunctory kiss on the cheek to thank him.

"Yes, quite." he muttered, allowing his hair to almost completely cover his reddened face. "Well, you couldn't properly perform the task appointed to you in those ridiculous things." he gestured to Hermione's forgotten and fraying pumps.

"I know. Thank you Severus."

"Well I 'ave to go and make sure Tonk's iz rrready." said Fluer, sashaying out of the room and leaving the two alone again.

Snape stood to leave, he didn't want to be around when the remaining inhabitants of shell cottage heard he had been giving thievery pretty Miss Granger presents.

"Well. You know what to do. Don't let me down Miss Granger."

"I wont."

Snape hmmph'd. Or he would have done, had he been anyone else.

"And Severus?" called Hermione, still sat on the hallway stair and staring at her new boots.

"Yes?"

"Thanks again for the boots. It was really thoughtful of you."

"I was being practical, not thoughtful." he snapped, opening the front door. Fresh air greeted him and the garden gate seemed so close...

"I know. But it was still very nice of you."

"Quite."

"Yes."

"Hmpph."

"Snape?"

"Miss Granger, are you ever going to allow me to leave? I will be missed soon, if I do not hurry."

"Alright, keep your hair on! I was just going to-"

But at this moment Molly, Arthur, Reamus, Tonks, Harry, Ginny and everyone else Hermione could have thought of, bustled out into the quiet of the hall and interrupted them.

"Oh hello Severus! I thought you left ages ago." trilled Molly. "Why Hermione, wherever did you find those! They're very stylish."

"Snape bought them for me." explained Hermione. "They're Dragonhide."

"Yes, well, I was just leaving." muttered Snape and he whirled out of the Front door and was apparating at the garden gate before anybody could object.

"You have a very queer effect on wizards these days Hermione." Molly murmured to her as everyone else crowded into the garden, ready to go. "Just you make sure you use it on that Malfoy boy."

Hermione blushed and muttered something like, "Er, yes Mrs Weasley."

Molly laughed and pulled Hermione in for a 'mummycuddle' as Ron dubbed them. Harry had always been fond of Mollys 'mummycuddles' a point on which Fred and George liked to tease him about from time to time, when he was getting a little too vigilante-ish. Hermione was probably just as partial to a mummycuddle, since she had sent her parents away to Australia, and she sometimes lurked in the kitchen to help cook supper, in the hopes she might get one.

Molly squeased extra hard for a moment, by way of a full-stop, and released her. "Now then, you be good." She said, as though Hermione was about to get on the train to school.

"I will Mrs. Weasley. Don't worry, I'll be fine. Ron's put so many protective charms on this thing it's weighing me down." laughed Hermione, holding up her wrist to show Ron's watch.

"Just you make sure you get back safely. We'll worry about that Malfoy boy later."

Hermione nodded and the two of them followed the others out into the garden.


	10. Wandlessly on Wednesday

"_No Questions, lets go"_

Malfoy grimly handed her his birch wood wand. He winced a little as she snatched it from his hands triumphantly. Seeing him recoil Hermione softened slightly.

"Oh for Gods sake Malfoy, you lent me this two days ago and I didn't do anything. Don't start losing your nerve now."

"Just Bedazzle yourself, witch." he spat. He was still in such a passion that he could not quite believe what he was doing. As such, he just went with it. It did not strike him as odd that he was now about to free the woman he had tried to curse with an unforgivable not a moment before. Should it have, he might have realised he was in the grips of an epic nervous breakdown.

"Alright, alright." Hermione brandished the wand at the chair she was still fixed to. "**Solvo**." she muttered.

She looked up at Malfoy brightly and smiled. Malfoy watched with impatience as she stood up, only to fall straight into him in a crumpled heap as her weak legs gave out beneath her.

"Hermione!" he hissed. " Stop pissing about." And he hoisted her up into a standing position.

"I've not eaten in three days Malfoy, I think you could cut me some slack!" she groaned, her face nestled in his shoulder. After five days imprisonment, two of those practically in solitary confinement, human contact was remarkably pleasant. Even if it was Malfoy, she didn't feel much like moving away.

"Well that's your own fault. You should have asked the guards."

"Urgh, we've been through this Malfoy!" said Hermione, her voice muffled by his blue ministry robes. "The DOOR IS CHARMED."

"Oh for fucks sake. Is there anything you can think of that isn't my fault, Granger?" removing his arms from her waist, where they had landed in his attempt to catch her, he bent over a little and picked her up, hooking his arm under her knees. Then he added, "You aren't going to be able to walk are you?"

"Well there's no need to overreact Malfoy. I'm a little weak is all. There's no need to g-"

"I'm not giving up! I am trying to come up with a plan to get your sorry arse out of here! You're not the only one who can think Granger. Nor are you the only one who can do the 'right thing'. I am going to get you out if it kills me." interrupted Malfoy angrily, striding over to the table and putting her down on it.

"Erm... ok? I was going to say "Get dramatic"... but. Yes. Ok. That too." Hermione watched Malfoy pace around the room. Stopping every so often to run a hand through his pale hair and rub the back of his neck.

"How good is your transfiguring?" he asked suddenly.

"Well I can't turn myself into anything small enough to smuggle."

"For fucks sake! Ok... I could carry you? Invisibly." he was running out of ideas. It would have been difficult even if they had Potter's invisibility cloak and half of his Dumb Army.

"I think people might notice your carrying an invisible something. I do have this though."

Malfoy watched as Hermione removed her locket earrings and opened one of them.

"I hardly think a photograph of Potter and Weasel is going to...oh my fuck! How did you manage that?"

Hermione had removed her wand from the coin sized locket.

"Undetectable extension charm." she replied sweetly and removed Ron's Put-outer as well. She clicked it and the lights in the interrogation room went out.

"Impressive. But we're trying to escape Hermione, not play murder in the dark." sneered Malfoy. The room was pitch black but she knew he was sneering. Stupid ferrety idiot. How could anybody be so determinedly dim? Wasn't her plan obvious? Why was everyone always so slow? On a good day it was as if Harry and Ron were two beats behind her and even Snape, whom she generally respected for his intelligence, could be a touch near-sighted. Why would Malfoy be any dif-

"You dirty mudblood liar!" Malfoy yelled suddenly. Hermione jumped and looked about for his outline in the thick darkness.

"What?"she asked , her thoughts interrupted.

"You said you released yourself wandlessly on Wednesday. Said you wanted so desperately to comfort me. That was just a lie! Everything you've said is bullshit." Malfoy was losing his hold on himself again. Had he been able to see, had he not been wandless himself, he would have crucioed the life out of the mudblood and this time have meant it.

"No, Malfoy. Please listen to me-" for the first time in years, Hermione had been beaten to the punch. Last time had been Ron screaming at her that she was a witch; with no need of matches to light a fire. Now it was Draco Malfoy, in the dark and in a cell.

"Why? So you can tell me some more lies? So you can use me, just like everybody else?"

Hermione could feel his hot breath on her face. He had found her. Malfoys hand was scrabbling around on the table behind her for a wand, a put-outer, anything. Hermione beat him to it and swiped their wands to the floor, the put-outer still in her hand, and shifted back on the table, twisting round and hopping off the other side ,twisting her ankle in the dark.

"OW! Oh, I've not been using you Malfoy! I... I used my wand, yes, but , Merlin my ankle hurts, don't you think it was an incredibly risky for me to do so? What if you'd seen it or not believed my excuse? And doesn't my showing it to you now prove I trust you? And prove my loyalty as a result?"

Draco calmed down...a little. She had a point. But the whole affair had sobered him. What was he doing? Breaking a mudblood prisoner out of the ministry of magic? He'd be wearing glasses and dying his hair red next. This was insane. He had to leave, had to get back to his desk and calm down...

"Malfoy..." said a small voice, from under the table. "Please don't leave me down here again."

"Where are you?" He asked, bending down and groping blindly under the table. His hand made contact with her arm and his hand closed round it like a vice. Hermione struggled and yelped in fright as he dragged her towards him. His arms wrapped themselves around her small frame, of their own volition it seemed and even Malfoy was a little surprised that he was not trying to murder her. But, like Hermione, he found the warmth of another being to be of great succour.

"I wont." he found himself whispering horsely in to her hair which, oddly, smelt of dirigible plums juice. Bloody muggleborn, what was she doing with dirigible plums? "I can be just as good as anyone in that Dumb Army."

The two of them stayed still. Breathing gently in the dark under the table.

"What was your idea?"

"It's not a very elegant plan," began Hermione, pushing him away gently and clicking the put-outer again. A small ball of light flew out of it and back into the the lamp above them. "Just turn the lights out with this thing and then you can help me run for it."

He squinted at her, the light hurting his eyes after the blackness, even from under their table

"No. You're right. It's not very elegant at all. But I think it's our only option."

Hermione nodded.

"But I don't think I'll be very quick." she said. "I desperately need something to eat. And some more water. And a cigarette. and if you know any quick healing spells... my ankles ok by it still hurts a little-"

"Oh well that's ok then. I'll just magic a banquet out of thin air. Oh, and fuck the cigarette, how about a Cuban cigar? Why don't I call the guards in and get them to fetch Madame Pomfrey while I'm at it?"

"Malfoy you're not helping. Pull me up would you. Ooof thank you. Did you say Pomfrey is here too? Oh god Malfoy... Right, ... there's nothing for it... I'm going to have to improvise."

"Oh god, not this again. right then Jane, what would you have me transfigure this time? My leg?"

"Shuttit Malfoy, I need to think."

Malfoy threw himself down on his chair and made every attempt to do the exact opposite. He didn't want to think. He just wanted to prove to this deceitful muggleborn in front of him that he could do anything she could and that he just usually didn't want to. Then it wouldn't matter so much that his life belonged to the Dark Lord and his weekdays belonged to Alfred Grompton. What was he going to do when they found out she was gone? no, he wasn't going to think about that. She was clever and they knew it, nobody would ever suspect him. Not Draco Malfoy, who had become a Deatheater before he was seventeen and had been instrumental in the death of Dumbledore... even if it hadn't quite gone to plan. Even if he was a bit of a fuck up now.

Meanwhile. Hermione's mind whirred furiously. She had not meant she would have to improvise her own escape. She meant she would have to deviate from Snapes plan slightly and ad-lib her way through. Olivander and Madame Pomfrey had both been captured by the deatheaters! And the Order had known nothing about it... This was bad. Really bad. There was no way she and Malfoy would be able to break them out today. She needed to convince him to help her help others... And she was too weak to help herself in her half-starved state... They would have to make a run for it and come back before Sunday... they would be sure to manage it. And if they didn't... well, she'd just have to send word back to shell cottage that she was extending her mission. Though she did not like the idea of being holled up with Draco Malfoy for any longer than was necessary, especially not in his own flat, but she preferred that than leaving Pomfrey and Olivander and whoever else they didn't know about back at shell cottage, to rot in a ministry cell.

"Ok Malfoy. This is what we're going to do..."


	11. No hand of Glory

"Ok Malfoy. This is what we're going to do..."

Hermione leaned against the table for support.

"We have two main obstacles. First, I am too weak to run much. Second we wont be able to see either."

"Oh well if those are the only minor flaws we better get going. They'll probably fix themselves." snapped Malfoy.

"No need for sarcasm Malfoy, last refuge of the weak minded you know."

"Well what would _you_ suggest then?"

Hermione gave him the ribs of her plan.

"You go. Canteen. Snacks. Office and or flat. Hand of Glory. Come back. Home in time for tea."

"Too good for grammer are we mudblood?"

"I don't know about you Malfoy but..."

"Fine. Wait here." said Malfoy as he headed for the door.

"Well, I was going to nip out to Diagon alley..." huffed Hermione as she hopped over to her seat.

"Last refuge Granger." smirked Malfoy. Hermione looked up at him grinning. It was nice to have an equal sparring partner.

"Now who's too good for grammer." She replied.

Malfoy scowled and opened the door, swishing his blue robes as he left.

Hermione took off Ron's watch and began twisting th gear that moved the clock hands. Using it much like a radio, she rotated the minute hand to the number '7' then back to '12' trying to pick up their transmitting frequency. The watch crackled and babbled.

"Hello?" she whispered.

"Hermione?" answered a tinny voice, swamped with static. "Oh god what's happened?" it was Ron.

"Nothing Ron I'm fine-" she tried to say when suddenly Harry's voice could be discerned in the background saying something that sounded like he wanted to speak to her.

"Gerrof it Harry!" she heard Ron say.

"No, I need to know how the mission is going-" replied Harry.

It was when Hermione heard Ginny's voice that she lost her temper.

Hissing in the most terrifying whisper, which had all three squabbling Gryffindors silent in a jiffy, Hermione said:

"Will you all shut up! They've got Olvander and Madame Pomfrey."

There was a silence at the other end of the line.

"wh-what was that Hermione?" asked Ginny

"They've got Poppy Pomfrey and Olivander and god only knows who else." Silence at the other end.

"I am staying until Malfoy and I have rescued them too. We will be back at Shell cottage in a few more days. I just wanted you all to know." she told them determinedly.

"Hermione this isn't part of the mission..." began Harry. Hermione was about to say something particularly unpleasant about certain _commandants_ lack of morals, when he added. "But I think you're doing the right thing. We all keep getting caught up in defeating Voldie-"

A faint cry of "all in favor?" sounded in the background, joining Ron's sounds of protest that Harry should be talking to Hermione and he wasn't.

"NOT NOW GEORGE! HERMIONES MADE CONTACT." Harry shouted. "Sorry about that. Fred and George are battling it out as to whether we should call you-know-who Madame Zam or Snakeyface... it's getting heated. Anyway. I think you're right, we can't let people suffer when we can help them."

"Oh Harry!" said Hermione in a teary voice. "I'm so proud of you sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" Harry laughed. "alright Ron! You can talk to her."

"About bloody time." said Ron, accompanied by odd rushing sounds, as he snatched the watch from Harry.

"Hermione?"

"Hello Ron." replied Hermione warmly. "Gosh it's good to hear your voice!"

"You too! Listen, are you alright with Malfoy? He's not... I mean he hasn't... you know. Are you okay?"

"Oh Ron, for goodness sake! Of course I am. This bloody watch of yours is charmed to the teeth! I'm fine. Malfoys not... tried anything. I think he's having a nervous breakdown actually. He's very up and down."

Hermione heard Harry's voice faintly in the background.

"Harry wants to know if he's definitely on side yet." said Ron.

Hermione thought for a moment. "Well... he's not on their side anymore. And I think he's on... erm... _my_ side or he could be. I don't think he's ever going to be on 'our side' though. I think the best we can hope for is to make him a better offer than Voldie."

There was a soft shout of "all in favor" again followed by a small chorus of "ayes" and "nays". Hermione had a mental image of all the inhabitants of Shell cottage crowded around the watch at their end. She smiled a little.

"Is everyone else there? Hi everyone!" a chorus of greetings met her ears. "Listen, I really don't have much time. Anyway, we can only make him a better offer than the other side. But his loyalties are definitely for sale. But... I don't think He's going to forgive any of us once he finds out about Narcissa."

There was silence at the other end.

"She's there, isn't she?"

"Yes." said a high but drawling voice.

"Well you had better not be when he gets there" burst out Hermione, shocking even herself with her anger "I don't think he's going to understand how his own _mother_ could betray him like this." Hermione was suddenly furious. She stopped as suddenly as she started, utterly appalled at her own behaviour.

"Miss Granger..." said the faint voice of Snape, in a warning tone. Hermione lost her hold on herself again

"No! That fucking bitch-"

"Language Hermione." said Molly quietly, but she clearly wasn't going to try and stop her.

"That... that woman had better keep away from me too. Who could possibly do this to their only son? I don't care if it helps us, he's in a state! He wasn't even able to grieve properly. Three days off to mourn his mother! He looks like shit Narcissa. He clearly hasn't slept, he's ridiculouly thin and you've left him completely alone! You should be _ashamed_."

"Hermione..." said Ron's voice. "Er... she's crying."

"Oh..." Hermione calmed down again. Why was she so angry? It was unfathomable... it must be the fatigue. "Listen... don't worry about Mal...er Draco, Narcissa. He's in safe hands."

"Thank you" said a sad and tearful voice. Hermione felt incredibly guilty all of a sudden. Narcissa probably hadn't made the decision easily. It must be hard for her too Hermione realised. She resolved to try and help Malfoy see this when he evenually found out the truth.

"I didn't mean to fly off the handle like that... I've not slept much... I'm sure he," she groped around for the word, "will understand." she finished lamely.

There was no reply until after the sound of a door closing echoed down the line.

"She's gone hasn't she?" sighed Hermione.

"I'll talk to her." said Molly. "I think she feels bad regardless of what any of us say really Hermione."

"Oh." she felt awful. "I have to go... Malfoy will be back in a minute and I don't want him to know I'm in contact just yet."

That was one can of worms she didn't want to open for a _long_ while yet.

"Well... Bye Everyone. Bye Ron. I love you."

A faint 'ahhhhh' sound could be heard.

"I love the rest of you too." she added.

"Even Snape?" shouted out Georges voice amidst the myriad 'Good byes'

"Especially Snape." laughed Hermione.

They laughed, although Hermione could bet Severus wasn't joining in. "I love all of you! But mostly Ron. Good bye."

"Bye Hermione!" they all shouted. And she turned the watch back to midnight, ending the conversation.

She had only to wait for five minutes before Malfoy reappeared at the door. He did not appear to be carrying a tray.

Hermione waited until he had shut the door. "Where's the food?" she asked, once it was safely sealed.

Without answereing, Malfoy strode to the table and began emptying his pockets. He pulled out a napkin of what looked like dolls food. Miniture rolls, slices of cheese and ham, apples, banana's and all sorts of other lunch things. He pointed his wand at the napkin and muttered 'engorgio' . The whole feast grew exponentially until the napkin was a table cloth and the food was full sized. Hermione smiled up at him.

"You are very brilliant sometimes." she said, reaching out to grab a roll.

Malfoy crossed his arms and kicked his chair back out from under the table. "Is it nice to have my brilliance work in our favor for once?" he sneered unpleasantly.

Hermione looked up warily from the sandwich she was hurridly filling.

"Somethings wrong." she said. It wasn't a question. She knew there was something up.

"You don't fucking say."

"Malfoy I-"

"Oh just shut up Granger."

"...Hermione."

"Oh give it _up_." Hermione froze. Had he overheard her talking to his mother? Oh Merlin, why hadn't she cast a silencing charm around the room? "You're flogging a dead house-elf. You're _Granger_; now leave it."

Hermione had to agree with him there. She had hoped that by forcing him to call her by her first name, that he might be a bit friendlier... that they would be...well..on first name terms. That was obviously not going to happen.

"Fine, call me Granger then. But what's wrong?"

"No hand of glory." Malfoy said simply.

"What? Why not? Where is it?"

"It would appear that Papa Malfoy has taken it away on a jolly with him." answered Malfoy, reaching for a chicken drumstick.

Hermione's mouth twitched. "_Papa Malfoy_?" she repeasted quietly.

Malfoy looked at her. "Yes it's okay to laugh Granger." he growled. "It was supposed to be funny." and he tore a strip off the drumstick as though it were the living flesh of his tormentor.

"Oh thank fuck for that!" she grinned, breathing a sigh of relief. "Papa Malfoy indeed."

"Have you got any other bright ideas?"

"Errmmm Extra sensory charm?" suggested Hermione distractedly. She was too hungry not to be distracted by the delicious task of sandwhich filling. Fortunately she was still reletively clever on autopilot.

"It might work... How powerfully would we need to cast it before if made us able to nigh on see in the dark? Could you guarantee no-one else in the building would think to use it? Couldn't we just glamour that mask thing to look like me... and I'll simply leave twice, as it were?"

"Mmmm... what?" asked Hermione, with a dreamy look on a her face vanishing suddenly as her eyes focused on his. The dark shadows under them made the grey blue even more piercing. "Sorry Malfoy, I zoned out a bit then." she said, popping another cherry tomatoe into her mouth, savouring the moment when it burst as she bit into it.

"Merlin! I thought you were clever! Brains behind Harry Potter etc!" shouted Malfoy. "Pay _attention_ mudblood!"

"Look." she said sternly. "I've not eaten in about 48 hours. Piss off. I am being incredibly brilliant just to function, alright? Give me a minute to eat and recuperate! I'll think of something blindingly brilliant in a bit!"

Malfoy snarled at her and picked her clown mask off the floor and began charming it to look like himself on the off chance that his plan might be their only option.

Hermione finished her lunch about half an hour later. However, all she then wanted to do was sleep. Casting a quick Pep-charm on herself she stood and began to pace the room, trying to walk off her sprained ankle. Malfoy watched her, as though waiting for a brilliant plan.

"You're just like Harry and Ron." she snapped finally. "Always assuming _Hermione_ will think of something: _Hermione _will help me finish my essay. _Hermione_ will talk to girls for me. _Hermione_ wi-"

"Granger." interupted Malfoy smoothly, smugness written across his every pointy feature. "I think I've got a plan. If you'll stop ranting for long enough." Hermione stared at him but said nothing. "We will cast and extra-sensory charm on each of us and put the lights out. But you will also wear this," he held up the mask which bore a passable resemblance to his own sharp and admitedly quite appealing face, "And wear my robes. That way, If either of us are caught, you stand a better chance of escape."

"We could cast extra-sensory charms on each other _together_, to make it more powerful..." mumbled Hermione to herself. "And I suppose I'd draw less attention as Draco Malfoy in Uniform .... rather than Draco Malfoy in drag... and if you were caught in my clothes, you could say I stunned you and ran off with your robes..."

"Do you always think allowed, or am I being treated?" drawled Malfoy. He was beginning to calm down. To return to his usual unpleasant and sarcastic self. Having a plan made him feel more confidant. The logic of it calmed him.

Hermione shhh'd him and waved a dismissive hand. He felt slighted.

"Well if I am alone in the claim of having heard Grangers mental cogs grinding into action then..."

"Shut up Malfoy" she answered. "It's a good plan. A very good plan. Lets get on with it."

Hermione wasted no time in casting the extra-sensory charms. She noted that his spell was about as powerful as hers. Which was odd. She really wouldn't mind spending so much time with him over the next few days after all. Yes he was a git and a coward but at least he could match her for brains. She wasn't used to that. Perhaps she would have been had the sorting hat put her in Ravenclaw but... well that was years ago and not worth dwelling on.

The two of them then swished their wands at Draco in unison, muttering the spell together. The two of them then stared at each other for a full minute.

Malfoy was fascinated to see the tiny threaded veins in the corners of Hermione's tired looking eyes. They were surreal... he saw them so clearly. And grain of the wooden table... that was beautiful. And heavens... he could smell the tomatoes she had eaten on her breath... mixing pleasantly enough with the dirigable plums smell he noticed earlier in her hair.

Hermione meanwhile was listening to his breathing... his...heartbeat? Surely not! And what was that... she could feel the draught coming from under the door. She looked directly at Malfoy, who was staring into her hair. Hasn't he got sad looking eyes? Poor boy.

They seemed to shake themselves out of their reveries simultabeously.

"Where's you enchanted lighter?" asked Draco in a slightly rasping voice. Hermione Covered her ears and winced. Putting a finger to her lips, she removed her left earring. She then took out the put outer and replaced the jewelery.

"Open the door" she mouthed.

Malfoy grinned and held the newly formed mask up and shook his head.

"Put this on first." he whispered. Hermione nodded and pulled it over her head. Malfoy looked at her disconcertedly.

"And these." he added, about to pull of his robes.

Hermione shook her head violently and put a hand over his arm to stop him. _**'verto muto'**_ she whispered, very softly.

Malfoy found himself suddenly squashed into a tiny leather jacket, dragonhide boots that didn't go past his toes, and a rapidly splitting pink robe. 'engorgio' he sputtered pointing his wand at each of the garments in turn, while Hermione set about shrinking his own robes.

"Ready Witch?" he mouthed.

"Born Ready." she answered.


	12. Side by Side

_Looking at Malfoy, Hermione guessed the way to his heart was through his stomach._

Hermione and Malfoy sat across the supper table from each other. He had been unimaginably happy when she shooed him out of the kitchen, instructing him never to return- under pain of death- after he had set off the magical smoke wards three times already that evening. The sandwiches he had made upon their return were apparently the only thing he could be trusted to prepare. With Draco safely out of the way, lounging around with some quidditch magazine or other, Hermione had cooked the coq au vin Molly had taught her.

Malfoy had already eaten three helpings and his eyes were still creeping toward the hob of the kitchen they had eaten in. Hermione seemed to also have enjoyed the meal and was leaning back in her chair with a sated smile, staring at the wall behind Malfoy's head. He didn't like the way she was acting so relaxed. He was also a little too full, having forced the third plateful of Hermione's delicious cooking down, just to savour the taste. He pulled a piece of scrap paper out of the pocket of his ministry robes and began folding it in various directions. Finding such endeavours incredibly relaxing. He became so engrossed in it that he did not notice Hermione had lit a cigarette and was watching him intently. It was not clear what he had made until the final finishing touches.

"A frog?" she asked, stubbing out the end of her cigarette in the large candle that sat between them. "Here, give me a piece of parchment."

"Oi! Who said you could smoke inside?" said Malfoy as he looked up to see her cigarette end hiss as she put it in the melted wax.

"Cooks perks." answered Hermione simply. "Give me a piece of-"

She was interrupted by Malfoy getting up from his seat, muttering something about Gryffindor's and manners, and heading out of the room.

At first she was stunned. How could anyone be so _rude_? Yes, she probably should have gone out to the balcony to smoke... but to just get up from the table and bugger off like that was unforgiv- Hermione was interrupted by the return of her host, carrying a wedge of parchment sheets. Putting them down on the table Malfoy retook his seat and summoned the wine-bottle from the working surface silently.

"Thanks." grinned Hermione. Malfoy seemed to be full of surprises. Well, she had a party piece that was guaranteed to shock him. Dexterously she began to fold her square of parchment. Malfoy pretended not to be interested and looked away from her while he sipped his wine.

"There." said Hermione, as she crushed the folds of her creation into shape. "What do you think?" it was obvious she was trying not to laugh. He looked over... and nearly spat his wine out all over the kitchen floor. Choking with laughter, he reached out and took the paper shape from her.

"Granger... this is obscene!" he cried delightedly, turning it over in his hands and trying to work out how she had done it. "Merlin, this is better than anything Pansy ever made! Where, in the name of all that is sacred, did you learn how to make an origami vagina?"

"It's good isn't it? Fred calls them 'Hermione's orgammy fannies' And George... well his is less suitable for the dinner table."

"Tell me what he calls them." Draco commanded sternly, although his eyes creased with a suppressed smile.

Hermione blushed and looked away. "Paper cuts." she muttered.

Draco burst out laughing. "What? Oh that's disgusting." he said between gasps. Hermione laughed too, just at the sight of him. She had never seen him laugh like that before.

Malfoy looked at her properly for the first time since they had started eating.

"You're quite the tramp aren't you?" he snarked.

"Hmph! Well that's the last time I cook _you_ anything."

Hermione got up from her seat and waved her wand angrily at him, sending the plates and cutlery flying into the sink, following them away from the table. Malfoy felt a little guilty as she slammed around behind him, tidying up the kitchen. He was about to apologise, when he had a better idea. Grabbing yet another sheet of parchment, he quickly formed it into a dove. He walked over to stand behind Hermione, deliberately standing a little too close -not about to miss out on a chance to make her feel uncomfortable just because he was apologising- and reached around her to put his peace offering on the working surface in front of her.

"What's this? A truce?" she asked, picking it up, pushing Malfoy away from her as she turned to face him.

"Yes." he replied, leaning closer again, putting his hands on the counter behind her.

"...?" Hermione looked as though she was waiting for more. When it didn't come, she shook her head smiling . "You don't know what doves mean in origami, do you?"

Straightening up he crossed his arms defensively and fixed her with a scowl.

"Not 'peace' apparently." he muttered. "Come on then Know it all, tell me how misinformed and thick I am."

"I didn't mean it like that Malfoy." Hermione told him with grating gentility in her voice. He didn't like it when she spoke like that, it soothed his anger a little too easily. Or 'pissed on his fire' as he so eloquently thought.

"What _did _you mean?"

"It's just that, traditionally, in Japanese origami a dove symbolises everlasting love." she answered, with her mouth twisting into a ill-concealed grin. Malfoy smiled back at her and laughed darkly.

"Well I didn't mean it to mean _that_."

"No, I didn't think so. What else can you make?"

Malfoy thought for a moment as they retook their seats. "Tell you what Jane, I'll make the most impressive thing _I_ can and _you_ can make a desperate attempt to match me. Loser tidies the flat." he said.

"You're on." laughed Hermione, and she snatched up another piece of parchment. It seemed to come alive in her quick fingers; flapping like a caught bird as she folded it into shape. Malfoy stole glances occasionally, looking up from his own creation and hoping for another indecent example feat of paper folding.

However, Hermione knew a much more impressive design; one that her host was bound to admire.

"Stop looking you cheat!" yelped Hermione, seeing Malfoys' eyes wandering again to her creation. With a swish of her wand and charmed one of the linen napkins to hang between them like a curtain.

"Me the cheat! Why are you so desperate to hide what you're doing? You're using magic!"

"I am _not_ using magic Malfoy. Look, I'll put my wand on the other end of the table." she said, leaning exaggeratedly over to put her wand out of reach. Malfoy watched her darkly. She bit her lip and looked at him suspiciously. "You have to put your wand there too." she added.

With a loud sigh and ill-grace, Malfoy complied and the pair went back to their parchments. Malfoy regretted his decision to ban wand work, as he needed to prepare 60 modules for his design. A feat much simpler if one can magically replicate one's work.

"Herrrmione???" he asked, in a wheedling tone.

"Use your wand if you must Malfoy, but I'll knock points off." she replied without looking up. "And don't call me Hermione just because you want something."

"Alight calm down." teased Malfoy. "It's only a bloody name. You sound like a mudblood in a book from the back of Hogwarts library. Oooh I'm so exoctic-" he paused to mutter an incantation over 59 sheets of parchment, which began to fold themselves as he had the first. "Call me Delores...."

Malfoy, who had been hoping to put her off her design, was surprised when she giggled and, without looking away from her parchment, replied:

"Gosh Malfoy, I wouldn't have thought _you'd _be reading "Flying on the backs of Hippogrifs! You are just a riddle wrapped in an eni-"

"You read it too?" interupted Draco excitedly. "You really _are_ filthy!"

"I think _everybody_ read it." she answered.

"I illustrated though." retorted the blond wizard.

"No! That was _you_? Wow... I'm was still coming to terms with the fact you'd even read it..."

"Pansy read it aloud to the Common Room."

"Oh."

"What?" asked Draco, looking up again from the parchment sheets, which were still folding themselves in front of him. "What did _you_ do in _your_ common room?"

"Well we didn't read filth aloud to each other!" spluttered Hermione.

"No, you just made it out of paper."

"No we didn't. We used to play exploding snap... or chess... it was Victor Krum's sister who taught me... _that_! She didn't speak much English you see... it was a bit of common ground."

"I didn't know Krum had a sister." muttered Malfoy, as he began to fold his modules into rings of five.

"Step-sister I should say. I don't think they liked each other much. She didn't even want to come to the Triwizard tournament." Hermione still had not looked up once from her parchment, there was no real need, all she could see when she did was Malfoys grey eyes peeping over the napkin.

"I don't see why you're being so modest all of a sudden, you _did_ make a paper vagina... _unprompted_."

"Alright that's enough snarking from you. I'm finished anyway. I'm going out for a cigarette."

"What?" Malfoy looked up suddenly from his folding. "Why? You don't have to go outside to smoke, I don't care."

Actually he _did_ care. He hated the smell of tobacco. However, he liked having human company more.

"Yes you do. Don't worry, I'm not going to leave or anything."

Malfoy hadn't even thought of that. He had forgotten everything beyond the pool of light from the candles on the table. Frowning at his parchment he thought about this for a moment, until he was disturbed by the sound of the balcony door shutting.

He had forgotten many things. He'd forgotten about Pansy... and the dirty book ...and the cackles of laughter he had raised from her when he showed her his racy illustrations. He hadn't even heard from her in months. He had heard she was going out with Blaise Zabini now. Malfoy hated her and missed her at once. He remembered how she used to play with his hair adoringly when he rested his head in her lap.

'_Bitch_' he thought bitterly, and shook himself out of his reveries. He angrily forced five more modules onto his five ring until it looked like a spoked wheel. At least the silly Gryffindor would have to concede defeat. This was going to blow whatever bollocksy crap she had made out of the water! It had been so long since Draco had had the chance to show off, to compete... to _win_, he wasn't letting it go lightly. He fixed a five ring onto each of the the spokes and continued until he had a dodecahedron, with every face a swirling flower head.

'Ha!' he thought triumphantly. 'five syllable origami. Top that witch!' and he proceeded to curl the 'petals' , using his wand to bend them around. Before long he had curled every single available flap on his kusudama but Hermione still had not returned.

Even before the thought had properly formed in his mind, Malfoy was on his feet and charging towards the balcony door.


	13. Parchment

_Looking at Malfoy, Hermione guessed the way to his heart was through his stomach._

Hermione and Malfoy sat across the supper table from each other. He had been unimaginably happy when she shooed him out of the kitchen, instructing him never to return- under pain of death- after he had set off the magical smoke wards three times already that evening. The sandwiches he had made upon their return were apparently the only thing he could be trusted to prepare. With Draco safely out of the way, lounging around with some quidditch magazine or other, Hermione had cooked the coq au vin Molly had taught her.

Malfoy had already eaten three helpings and his eyes were still creeping toward the hob of the kitchen they had eaten in. Hermione seemed to also have enjoyed the meal and was leaning back in her chair with a sated smile, staring at the wall behind Malfoy's head. He didn't like the way she was acting so relaxed. He was also a little too full, having forced the third plateful of Hermione's delicious cooking down, just to savour the taste. He pulled a piece of scrap paper out of the pocket of his ministry robes and began folding it in various directions. Finding such endeavours incredibly relaxing. He became so engrossed in it that he did not notice Hermione had lit a cigarette and was watching him intently. It was not clear what he had made until the final finishing touches.

"A frog?" she asked, stubbing out the end of her cigarette in the large candle that sat between them. "Here, give me a piece of parchment."

"Oi! Who said you could smoke inside?" said Malfoy as he looked up to see her cigarette end hiss as she put it in the melted wax.

"Cooks perks." answered Hermione simply. "Give me a piece of-"

She was interrupted by Malfoy getting up from his seat, muttering something about Gryffindor's and manners, and heading out of the room.

At first she was stunned. How could anyone be so _rude_? Yes, she probably should have gone out to the balcony to smoke... but to just get up from the table and bugger off like that was unforgiv- Hermione was interrupted by the return of her host, carrying a wedge of parchment sheets. Putting them down on the table Malfoy retook his seat and summoned the wine-bottle from the working surface silently.

"Thanks." grinned Hermione. Malfoy seemed to be full of surprises. Well, she had a party piece that was guaranteed to shock him. Dexterously she began to fold her square of parchment. Malfoy pretended not to be interested and looked away from her while he sipped his wine.

"There." said Hermione, as she crushed the folds of her creation into shape. "What do you think?" it was obvious she was trying not to laugh. He looked over... and nearly spat his wine out all over the kitchen floor. Choking with laughter, he reached out and took the paper shape from her.

"Granger... this is obscene!" he cried delightedly, turning it over in his hands and trying to work out how she had done it. "Merlin, this is better than anything Pansy ever made! Where, in the name of all that is sacred, did you learn how to make an origami vagina?"

"It's good isn't it? Fred calls them 'Hermione's orgammy fannies' And George... well his is less suitable for the dinner table."

"Tell me what he calls them." Draco commanded sternly, although his eyes creased with a suppressed smile.

Hermione blushed and looked away. "Paper cuts." she muttered.

Draco burst out laughing. "What? Oh that's disgusting." he said between gasps. Hermione laughed too, just at the sight of him. She had never seen him laugh like that before.

Malfoy looked at her properly for the first time since they had started eating.

"You're quite the tramp aren't you?" he snarked.

"Hmph! Well that's the last time I cook _you_ anything."

Hermione got up from her seat and waved her wand angrily at him, sending the plates and cutlery flying into the sink, following them away from the table. Malfoy felt a little guilty as she slammed around behind him, tidying up the kitchen. He was about to apologise, when he had a better idea. Grabbing yet another sheet of parchment, he quickly formed it into a dove. He walked over to stand behind Hermione, deliberately standing a little too close -not about to miss out on a chance to make her feel uncomfortable just because he was apologising- and reached around her to put his peace offering on the working surface in front of her.

"What's this? A truce?" she asked, picking it up, pushing Malfoy away from her as she turned to face him.

"Yes." he replied, leaning closer again, putting his hands on the counter behind her.

"...?" Hermione looked as though she was waiting for more. When it didn't come, she shook her head smiling . "You don't know what doves mean in origami, do you?"

Straightening up he crossed his arms defensively and fixed her with a scowl.

"Not 'peace' apparently." he muttered. "Come on then Know it all, tell me how misinformed and thick I am."

"I didn't mean it like that Malfoy." Hermione told him with grating gentility in her voice. He didn't like it when she spoke like that, it soothed his anger a little too easily. Or 'pissed on his fire' as he so eloquently thought.

"What _did _you mean?"

"It's just that, traditionally, in Japanese origami a dove symbolises everlasting love." she answered, with her mouth twisting into a ill-concealed grin. Malfoy smiled back at her and laughed darkly.

"Well I didn't mean it to mean _that_."

"No, I didn't think so. What else can you make?"

Malfoy thought for a moment as they retook their seats. "Tell you what Jane, I'll make the most impressive thing _I_ can and _you_ can make a desperate attempt to match me. Loser tidies the flat." he said.

"You're on." laughed Hermione, and she snatched up another piece of parchment. It seemed to come alive in her quick fingers; flapping like a caught bird as she folded it into shape. Malfoy stole glances occasionally, looking up from his own creation and hoping for another indecent example feat of paper folding.

However, Hermione knew a much more impressive design; one that her host was bound to admire.

"Stop looking you cheat!" yelped Hermione, seeing Malfoys' eyes wandering again to her creation. With a swish of her wand and charmed one of the linen napkins to hang between them like a curtain.

"Me the cheat! Why are you so desperate to hide what you're doing? You're using magic!"

"I am _not_ using magic Malfoy. Look, I'll put my wand on the other end of the table." she said, leaning exaggeratedly over to put her wand out of reach. Malfoy watched her darkly. She bit her lip and looked at him suspiciously. "You have to put your wand there too." she added.

With a loud sigh and ill-grace, Malfoy complied and the pair went back to their parchments. Malfoy regretted his decision to ban wand work, as he needed to prepare 60 modules for his design. A feat much simpler if one can magically replicate one's work.

"Herrrmione???" he asked, in a wheedling tone.

"Use your wand if you must Malfoy, but I'll knock points off." she replied without looking up. "And don't call me Hermione just because you want something."

"Alight calm down." teased Malfoy. "It's only a bloody name. You sound like a mudblood in a book from the back of Hogwarts library. Oooh I'm so exoctic-" he paused to mutter an incantation over 59 sheets of parchment, which began to fold themselves as he had the first. "Call me Delores...."

Malfoy, who had been hoping to put her off her design, was surprised when she giggled and, without looking away from her parchment, replied:

"Gosh Malfoy, I wouldn't have thought _you'd _be reading "Flying on the backs of Hippogrifs! You are just a riddle wrapped in an eni-"

"You read it too?" interupted Draco excitedly. "You really _are_ filthy!"

"I think _everybody_ read it." she answered.

"I illustrated though." retorted the blond wizard.

"No! That was _you_? Wow... I'm was still coming to terms with the fact you'd even read it..."

"Pansy read it aloud to the Common Room."

"Oh."

"What?" asked Draco, looking up again from the parchment sheets, which were still folding themselves in front of him. "What did _you_ do in _your_ common room?"

"Well we didn't read filth aloud to each other!" spluttered Hermione.

"No, you just made it out of paper."

"No we didn't. We used to play exploding snap... or chess... it was Victor Krum's sister who taught me... _that_! She didn't speak much English you see... it was a bit of common ground."

"I didn't know Krum had a sister." muttered Malfoy, as he began to fold his modules into rings of five.

"Step-sister I should say. I don't think they liked each other much. She didn't even want to come to the Triwizard tournament." Hermione still had not looked up once from her parchment, there was no real need, all she could see when she did was Malfoys grey eyes peeping over the napkin.

"I don't see why you're being so modest all of a sudden, you _did_ make a paper vagina... _unprompted_."

"Alright that's enough snarking from you. I'm finished anyway. I'm going out for a cigarette."

"What?" Malfoy looked up suddenly from his folding. "Why? You don't have to go outside to smoke, I don't care."

Actually he _did_ care. He hated the smell of tobacco. However, he liked having human company more.

"Yes you do. Don't worry, I'm not going to leave or anything."

Malfoy hadn't even thought of that. He had forgotten everything beyond the pool of light from the candles on the table. Frowning at his parchment he thought about this for a moment, until he was disturbed by the sound of the balcony door shutting.

He had forgotten many things. He'd forgotten about Pansy... and the dirty book ...and the cackles of laughter he had raised from her when he showed her his racy illustrations. He hadn't even heard from her in months. He had heard she was going out with Blaise Zabini now. Malfoy hated her and missed her at once. He remembered how she used to play with his hair adoringly when he rested his head in her lap.

'_Bitch_' he thought bitterly, and shook himself out of his reveries. He angrily forced five more modules onto his five ring until it looked like a spoked wheel. At least the silly Gryffindor would have to concede defeat. This was going to blow whatever bollocksy crap she had made out of the water! It had been so long since Draco had had the chance to show off, to compete... to _win_, he wasn't letting it go lightly. He fixed a five ring onto each of the the spokes and continued until he had a dodecahedron, with every face a swirling flower head.

'Ha!' he thought triumphantly. 'five syllable origami. Top that witch!' and he proceeded to curl the 'petals' , using his wand to bend them around. Before long he had curled every single available flap on his kusudama but Hermione still had not returned.

Even before the thought had properly formed in his mind, Malfoy was on his feet and charging towards the balcony door.


	14. I won, by the way

Pulling it open angrily, he was met with the sight of Hermione, slumped in a ironwork chair. Draco stopped still, unsure of whether she was dead or not. She fretted slightly in her sleep. Malfoy stared at her indignantly. He had been folding away diligently for the past _hour_ and she had been taking a nap?

"Granger."

No response.

"Granger!" he shouted, still stood in the doorway. Her eyes flew open and she groped for her wand jumping to her feet she had assumed a fighting stance in a flash. Looking around her however, she saw only the tall and angular outline of Malfoy.

"What?" she yelped. "What is it? Snatchers? Where's my wand?"

"Relax." She could tell Malfoy was trying not to laugh. "I just came to see where you were."

Heaving a huge sigh of relief, Hermione dropped her arms back to her sides and straightened up. "Do you think, next time, you could just shake me or something? Not come out here shouting the house down?"

His lip quirked. "We'll see." he answered, and he stood aside to let her pass, holding out his arm graciously, to invite her in.

"Hmmph!" she said, and she stomped past him with her head held high.

The warmth of the flat hit her like a hug. She hadn't realised how cold it was outside. She had been too tired to really care.

"Sit down." Malfoy told her. "I'll get my kusudama and whatever pitiful attempt you made."

Hermione threw herself down of the large sofa. Pulling her legs onto the seat as well, she closed her eyes again. Why was he so obsessed with their little contest? Couldn't they pick it up in the morning? She yawned.

"Wake up." an angry voice told her. "I'm awake. Why aren't you!"

She smiled. "Go away Malfoy, I'm too tired."

He pushed her legs off the sofa. Opening her eyes to glare at him, she sat up and drew her legs up under her. "Fine." she said sleepily. "Fine, I'm awake."

"Good. Stay that way." he snapped, turning again towards the kitchen. He was quite interested to see what it was she had made. He knew it would be nowhere near as good as his, as she had used just one sheet of parchment, whereas he had used sixty. It was simple maths that his would be better.

Picking up his ball of flower heads carefully, he admired how well he had managed without even using fixing charms. It had taken him much longer to do... but it was worth it. He didn't want her trying to knock off points for using extra magic. He then pulled down the napkin curtain to see what it was she had made. He was met with a small paper dragon. He smiled. Turning back to the sitting room, he saw that Hermione was, again, asleep.

***

She awoke to see sunlight streaming through the curtains. For a moment she did not remember where she was and panic woke her up more completely before she was able to remember that Malfoy had 'rescued' her. It was a novel thought.

Sitting up in bed, she looked around. The room was reasonably sized with high ceilings, like the rest of the flat, and decorated in the same muggle property developer taste. The bed was not remarkable but Hermione could not bring herself to get out of it for a full ten minutes. She merely sat in it, snuggling into the pillows occasionally, and bouncing up and down with delight. It had been days since she slept in a bed... and months since she had had one to herself. She loved Ginny, Luna, Lavender, Parvati... Padma... Hannah... and everyone else she had been sharing a magically enlarged bed with for the previous month. But she didn't love them enough to actually _want_ to share the duvet. She didn't think she'd ever love anybody that much. Even Ron.

Eventually she decided that she would have to get up. Throwing back the covers and swinging her legs off the bed, she discovered she was still wearing her clothes. Why had she not taken them off? She couldn't remember. She couldn't actually remember getting into bed at all. Last thing she recalled was dozing happily on the comfy sofa...

She cringed.

Malfoy must have put her to bed.

Hermione looked for the door. Opening the one nearest, she found herself staring into an empty closet. Scowling, she moved round to the next. This one opened into a small en suite bathroom. Not the escape route she had been looking for but a welcome discovery none the less!

She ran a bath. It had been too long couple of days of hasty scourgifys and sleeping in straw. A comfy bed and a hot bath were... bliss. There was no other word for it. Hermione remembered reading somewhere that the saints were given a glimpse of hell before they went to heaven.

'This must be why.' she thought idly, playing with the water.

There had not been any bubble bath to hand in the bathroom, nor was there any soap or shampoo. Apparently this bathroom was not used. She would have to wait a little longer to wash her hair. It was probably a good thing though, as it would only wash out Ginny's modified hair potion which had tamed it so nicely.

Ron may prefer her hair wild, but Hermione was fairly sure Malfoy wouldn't. He probably didn't even like it curly. Hermione sighed; the bath had gone cold.

Pulling out the plug, Hermione stood out of the bath and dried herself off with the towel that hung on the back of the door. Then she pulled her clothes back on. It occurred to her that she was going to have to find something else to wear, at least while she washed her things. Scourgify just didn't do the job properly. It had been sufficient, while she was being held prisoner, to keep them relatively sweet smelling. However, after almost a week of constant wear, they were beginning to go beyond what redemption the charm could offer. She sighed. Perhaps Malfoy will have something he could lend her. She doubted it though. He'd probably think it was weird.

It _was _weird. Hermione _knew_ it was... but after living in such close quarters with the rest of the D.A girls... Hermione wasn't even sure if the knickers she was wearing were hers or Ginny's. Borrowing a robe from Draco for an hour while she washed her clothes was vanilla by comparison. She decided _not_ to tell that to Malfoy though. It wouldn't exactly help and he probably just wanted her to go anyway.

'I should have gotten up earlier.' she decided. 'I should have made breakfast and tidied up... I need him to _want_ me to stay a while longer. That would be so degrading though. _Morning draco honey, how do you take your eggs?_ How pathetic! It probably _would_ have worked though...'

Hermione left the bathroom and looked for her wand. It was resting on the bedside table, with... a ball of paper? Hermione walked over to take a closer look. It was Draco's origami creation from the night before. It was incredible. No wonder she had fallen asleep before he was done! The crazy wizard must have spent hours on it. Next to it was her paper dragon, which she had to admit looked a bit simple by comparison. Malfoy had also left her a note:

_Granger,_

_Do you always sleep so much?_

_I've gone to work. Will be back later. _

_Don't go before I get back,_

_D.M_

_P.S. I won, by the way. We had a vote. You didn't disagree. _

Hermione balled up the note in her hand. Did this mean he expected her to tidy up? Why had he not bloody well woken her up? It was so underhanded, putting her to bed instead of waking her up, just so he could get her to tidy up in the morning. Only a Slytherin, or a really devious Ravenclaw, would do it. Huffing to herself, Hermione opened the last door in the bedroom, which led through to the open plan kitchen-sitting room.

Malfoy had tidied up.

***

Hermione's escape was the talk of the Ministry. No one was sure if she had turned out the lights herself, been rescued by someone _else_ who turned out the lights or if she had merely taken advantage of the situation.

The Guards had told Yaxley that they saw Malfoy leaving and that the lights went out and somebody stupefied them. Malfoy told Yaxley that he had been put under the Imperious Curse and had come to in Sheffield late that night.

"Why did you not report back for a debriefing?" roared Yaxley, throwing a ledger at Malfoy, who ducked it gracefully.

"With Respect Yaxley, I was not sure exactly what had happened. So I apparated straight home, not wanting to fall prey to such ne'er-do-wells again. Once I was there I fell asleep until this morning. When I awoke I came straight in for debriefing." he lied smoothly.

Yaxley threw an ink bottle at the wall and stalked out muttering,

"Get on with your work."

Draco did so. He completed the necessary paperwork for escaped prisoners. He couldn't believe he had gotten away with it. It was exhilarating to think of her, curled up in his spare room while they scratched their heads and wondered what had happened. She was something that he had saved. Part of him wanted to keep her forever; as two-fingers up to the Ministry, to Grompton and to the Dark Lord. But it was more than that; she was the last remaining proof that he had a soul. Nobody was going to ruin that. He had not been able to keep his mother safe from harm. He had not even been there for her when she died.

But Granger would be different.


	15. Hermione I'm Home

_Granger would be different._

When Malfoy came home that Evening, he was greeted with the delicious smell of Hermione's cooking. His heart leapt for joy and he had to restrain himself for leaping about the room. Instead, he shouted over the sound of the bubbling saucepans and blaring radio.

"Hermione? I'm Home."

Hermione's head appeared from the balcony. She smiled. "Malfoy!"

"Why are _you_ so please to see me?" he asked suspiciously.

"It's been all over the news!" she answered, stubbing out her cigarette on the balcony floor. Suddenly she stopped. "Malfoy... what was the first thing you ever said to me?"

"What?" he asked, astonished.

"Answer the question." a grim look had replaced the happy smile on her face.

Draco closed his eyes and answered in a very low growl, "Oi Longbottom, I've found your toad."

"Good." said Hermione brightening up again, "It _is_ you. You can't be too careful Malfoy. Do you want to ask me something, to make sure _I'm_ who I say I am?"

"... No."

"I think you should. Just to get into the habit of it."

"Fine. What are you making?" he asked. Hermione sighed.

"Spaghetti Bolognese, Anyway they've been talking about yesterday on the radio. They've talked about nothing else actually. They said they think I had outside help, from the Order or the D.A. They don't suspect you do they? I mean, no one has suggested it might have-"

"No." answered Draco simply, walking towards the kitchen. "They would never suspect me."

"Thank god for ...please keep out of there Malfoy, I think there is something chemically wrong with you that fucks up cooking from ten paces."

Malfoy scowled at her and stalked off towards his bedroom to change. He hated his ministry robes, beyond reason, and wanted them off his back before he started tearing at them. He changed into a pair of jeans and a dark green jumper. This caught Hermione a little off guard when he re-entered the kitchen.

"What... what are you... why are you wearing that?" she asked surprised.

"Would you prefer I was naked Granger?" asked Draco in an innocent but alluring tone.

She huffed a little and went back to her stirring. "I just never pictured you in jeans."

"You picture me nak - _woah_ " Draco tried to use his most stern tone of voice, "Gryffindor, put down the spoon!"

"Just get out of the kitchen, you'll curdle everything."

He stalked off to the sofa again, picking up the Quidditch magazine he had already read, only to throw it down again half a minute later.

***

"Hermione?" asked Malfoy.

"Hmmm?"

"Will you show me how to cook this before you go?"

Hermione looked up from her plate, to see Draco soaking up the last of the sauce with a piece of bread. She grinned at him.

"If you'd like." she said. "Would you like me to show you a couple of simpler things as well?" she asked.

Malfoy glared up from his plate. "I'm not an idiot Granger, you don't need to hold my hand."

They continued eating in silence.

"How long _are _you going to stay?" asked Draco after a long while.

"I don't know." answered Hermione honestly.

"Draco... I..."

"What?"

"I can't stop thinking about Madame Pomfrey... and Olivander."

"... ok. Do you often think about them? Or is it just a new thing..."

"I mean, since you said they were being held in the ministry too-"

Draco pushed his chair back and stood up. "No." he told her. "Don't even think about it Mudblood. I didn't put my own life at risk saving you to have you fuck us both up. I am not going and you are not going."

"But-"

"Hermione, _no."_

"Draco... I can't just leave them there! We have to do _something_."

"No we don't. We don't have to do anything but eat, breath and sleep." Draco told her stubbornly.

"That's not true though is it?" Hermione's eyes were narrowed. "_You_ have to do what ever your masters tell you!"

Malfoy nearly hit her. "Shut your nasty Mudblood mouth!" he hissed, slamming his fists on the table, rattling the china.

"It's true! I'll bet that the only free thing you've done since school is breaking me out." she shouted back at him. "You're nothing more than a servant and a coward."

"Shut up!" he screamed, as he swiped his hand across the table, knocking the plates and glasses to the floor, where they smashed noisily.

"Why wont you help me?" she asked quietly.

"I already did!"

"So why not go one step further?"

"What and get caught?"

"We could protect you! The Order would hide you-"

Draco had heard this offer before. The shame he already felt rose up like bile in his thoat.

"D...Draco? Are, are you alright? You look very ill. Here, come and sit down."

"I'm fine. Leave me alone." he muttered. He didn't want to think about what he had done.

"You ought to go bed." she advised. But that was the last thing Draco wanted to do. He didn't want yet another night of lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about where he went wrong.

"No."

"You look awful. What time did you get to bed last night?"

Malfoy evaded the question. "I just need some fresh air. Get out of the way, I'm going outside."

"Well will you talk to me about Olivander and Poppy then?"

"No."

"Will you _listen_ to me talk abou-"

"I said 'no' mudblood!"

"Why are you being such a prick about this?"

"I'm going ouside."

Malfoy strode to the back door, with Hermione following close behind.

"Fine." she said. "I'll leave it...for now... what time did you go to bed last night? It was late when _I_ fell asleep."

"Why do you care?"

"Because..." why did she care? It was unfathomable really.

'He's not all bad.' she thought. 'He's not evil. And he doesn't seem to have anybody else who cares about him. Why the hell shouldn't I be concerned?'

"Well?" it was dark on the balcony, but she heard the sneer clear enough. He obviously thought she was about to deny any concern for his well being at all.

"Draco, why _shouldn't_ I care about you?"

"Don't answer a question with a question! Why the hell do you care? After everything I've done? Letting the deatheaters into the School, getting Dumbl..." his angry voice faltered. He couldn't say the name. He didn't dare. "And letting my aunt crucio you into the floor..."

"Oh for God's sake Malfoy!" she snapped angrily. "Will you please stop torturing yourself? There are plenty of other people quite willing to do it for you, believe me."

Malfoy was silent.

"If you want my advice-"

"I don't."

"Well you're bloody well going to get it so shut up and listen. Tormenting yourself only makes the mistakes you have made worse. You only add yourself to the list of people who's lives you have fucked up. And it's a long list Draco, you don't want to go adding to it."

"Oh thanks for that Granger, I feel so much better."

"You're not supposed to. This is a lecture not a bloody pep talk!"

Malfoy smiled a little in spite of himself, Hermione softened a little and smiled back.

"You can't wallow Draco, it doesn't do anyone any good. You can either embrace the dark side; hand me back in and continue on the path you have chosen- working at the ministry, torturing our classmates and filing- or you can make amends."

"How?"

"Help me save Pomfrey and Olivander and everyone else who's still suffering in the Ministry."

"I can't do that."

"You _can_. You must! Then you can come home with me to the Order and the DA and none of them will be able to stop you because you will have helped them."

Draco said nothing, but she could see he was warming to the idea.

"Can you imagine the look on Harry's face when you bring me home? Knowing that _you_ rescued his best friend when he failed?"

"He'd hate that." answered Malfoy.

"Yes, he would. But he's have to respect you and even be grateful because you saved me."

Draco smiled darkly.

"So... will you help me then?"

"Yes..."

"Oh Draco! I knew you would!" exclaimed Hermione, throwing her arms around his neck and embracing him.

"But on one condition."

"What?" Asked Hermione, not letting go.

"You have to promise to do the cooking until we leave."

Hermione laughed and hugged him tighter.


	16. Dreams of Flight

_Hermione laughed and hugged him tighter._

Draco Hugged her back for a moment, not having felt so content... or excited, since he had caught the snitch against Ravenclaw in his sixth year. Then too, he had had dark matters pressing on his mind but he remembered that one moment, of catching something so small and golden, as clearly as he did the months of limited sleep and mounting stress. After a short moment, which had seemed so long to Draco, he let her go and semi-pushed her away from him. However, she didn't seem to mind this, and chattered away happily.

"We will have to come up with a proper plan." she said. "You will need to find out exactly where they are being held and then help me draw out a map. I'll need to know the lay-out as well as you do."

Draco sat down at the table, followed by Hermione who summoned a bottle of wine and two glasses from the kitchen. "Then we'll need to assess the situation, find flaws in their system."

"Mhmm." mumbled Draco, closing his eyes and listening to her talk.

"It's just like chess. We have to know how are pieces move and how theirs move, only then can we destroy them. God, I sound like Ron. Draco? Are you asleep?"

"No." he answered in a unmistakably tired voice.

"What time _did_ you go to sleep last night?" she asked gently.

"About four." he yawned. Hermione did her best to restrain herself.

"Four _am_? Merlin no wonder you look so bloody ill. Right. Get to bed . _Now_."

"Can't you just leave me alone mudblood? I don't remember _asking_ your opinion on my sleeping habits."

"Go to bed." she replied, ignoring the insult. She rather saw it as a term of endearment anyway. She wouldn't tell _him_ that though.

"Fine!" Draco snapped, and he hauled himself out of his chair. "Good night."

"Goodnight." she replied sweetly.

Then Draco did something which neither of them recognised as odd until they were each on the brink of sleep. He ruffled her hair on his way passed.

***

He was flying around the soaring turrets of Hogworts, revelling in the sensation of freedom flying gave him. Not even the law of Gravity applied to him; he was untouchable. He pulled his broom upwards, rising ever higher until the school was little more than a speck beneath him and the clouds began to wind around his vision.

Then he heard it. A soft crying sound was echoing up from the castle below. Puzzled as to what it could be, Draco pushed his broom into a terrifying but thrilling nose-dive, pulling up just before he skewered himself on the Astronomy Tower. The crying seemed to be coming from _inside._ Draco did not know how he could tell this, as the crying was just as faint as it had been high up in the clouds. He circled the tower, slowly dropping downwards until he found a window. Suddenly he was inside, still sailing on his broom, high above the floor. Below him an old and white haired Wizard was kneeling before a blond boy, but it was not either of them who was crying. Then he noticed Snape, stood in the shadows, holding something small sparkly. It was the snitch that was making the mournful sound. If he listened carefully, he could make out it's words.

"Catch me!" it said. "Catch me before Potter does!"

Draco was stunned. The snitch _wanted_ him to catch it. He threw his broom into a nosedive again, but the floor and the kneeling wizard melted away, the snitch remaining the same distance from him no matter how fast he flew, glittering against a blackness that led where he knew not.

"Catch me Draco, please!" shouted the snitch and he forced himself to lie flatter on his broom, the wind whistled in his ears and he drew closer.

"Why wont you help me Draco?" accused the snitch, Draco flew faster, anger giving him speed. The snitch stopped, as though it were waiting for him and he felt his hand close around it! He pulled out of the dive and flew around the blackness in a celebratory loopdeloop. But the snitch was not a snitch anymore, it was a young woman. And she was screaming at him.

"Draco Malfoy put me down this instant! You know I hate flying!"

But instead of landing her on the ground, he flew them into a large bed in the tree's. She was smiling then and she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered,

"Oh Draco, I knew you would!" and she buried her head in his shoulder. "Just imagine the look on Potters face."

He pushed the witch down on the bed. It looked like it had been made _from_ the tree, with the bed frame crafted out of twisted branches, with soft downy sheets and pillows layered as though it were a nest. And she belonged in it. She belonged to him as well because _he_ had saved her and she was _his_. Her hair curled around her head, on the pillows he had rested her on, like coiling ivy. He leant over her and pressed his mouth into hers. She parted her soft lips and pulled him closer to her, arching her back. She was naked, Draco realised, and shivering in the cold of the canopy. He pulled the thick white duvet over the pair of them as she pulled him out of his quidditch robes. They seemed to melt in her hands and he soon found that he was naked too. He was cold but her warm skin pressed against him, warming him like a hot bath.

His hands found her breasts and he lowered his mouth to them to suck on her rosy nipples. She arched her back again, pushing her breasts towards him before wrapping her legs around his hips. Feathers flew around her, as though disturbed by her every movement and paper doves flew around them like shoals of fishes.

The witch was gasping softly as he bit playfully at her sensitive flesh, he looked up at her and grinned wickedly. Raising his head to kiss her again, he slipped a hand to the apex of her thighs, where he quickly found the sweet secret he was looking for. The beautiful witches eyes rolled back in her head and she threw her head back deep into the pillows, sending up another cloud of white feathers, which settled all around them and in her vine-like curls. Unable to resist, Draco slid a finger inside her. The witch ground her hips downwards. Her wet heat was divine. Draco, cold again drew back his hand, much to the displeasure of the witch.

"Hush love." he told her soothingly, as he shifted himself to lie between her legs. A look of shameless desire replaced her reproachful glare. She pushed her hips upwards, as he brought the head of his painfully hard erection to meet her. He felt her small and delicate hand wrap around it and guide him inside of her. He forced his way in and the witch moaned in ecstasy. Leaning forwards to kiss her again, he watched her reaction covetously. He could feel how much she was enjoying it and was desperate to see it in her eyes. He wanted to watch her topple over the edge of sense and lose control.

She was gasping his name, moaning sensuously as she moved her hips in time with his. She moved her hips faster and faster, until Draco didn't think he could take much more and he slammed in and out of her warm, wet body as though he were trying to break her. The witch tensed up, pulling him against her with surprising strength and she screamed. He joined her with an ecstatic cry of his own, feeling his own body spasm as he came inside of her.

He looked down to wear their bodies joined. Her sex was made out of parchment.

Draco sat bolt upright in bed, looking down at his crotch in horror. He had come all over himself like a schoolboy. What on earth had he been dreaming about, he wondered. Then he remembered, in a wave of pleasure and shame that had been dreaming about _her_.

***

Malfoy did not get back to sleep after that. He was not used to having more than four hours rest at a time anyway. He rose and showered away the sticky mess. It was a Sunday and unlike the day before, Malfoy did not have to go to work. He had already filed the reports on Hermione's escape and had is debriefing so he was free to spend the day as he saw fit. This usually involved reading. He rarely saw his friends any more and he could not very well go flying on his broomstick across Kensington. He usually waited until after dark for that pleasure, when none would see. He couldn't sleep anyway.

He was lounging on the sofa, reading an old book of his about a young wizard who went exploring in the deep Amazon rainforest, discovering new magic and tribes, when Hermione appeared from the spare room, wearing only her cut-off pink robe.

"Morning." she said brightly. "Do you want breakfast?"

"What? Oh, uh... yeah." replied Draco, hiding his face behind his book. He needn't have bothered. He never blushed.

"Did you sleep?" called Hermione from the Kitchen, as she clattered around; setting the table with bowls, glasses and a jug of pumpkin juice.

Draco was glad she couldn't see him, as he sank further into the sofa, clutching the book so close to his face that he could smell it.

"Yes." he answered in a ever so slightly strangled voice. He hope she would just think he was always like that in the mornings.

"Did you want tea?"

"You're not going to make it in a lighter again are you?" he jibed.

"_No_ _Malfoy_" she called back in a jokingly exasperated voice. "I was going to use a real tea-pot this time."

"That's a shame Jane." he told her as he walked into the kitchen . "I quite enjoyed it last time."

Hermione laughed and shooed him back out of the kitchen.

"I thought you were going to teach me to cook?" he pouted.

"Malfoy you are not a child, please do not stick your bottom lip out at me. I'm not cooking anyway. I thought we'd just have toast and cereal."

Malfoy shrugged and pulled up a chair. "As long as I didn't make it, I'm sure it will be fine."

Hermione put a box of "Pygmey Puff's!" in front of him.

"Milks in the jug." she said. "Try not to turn it sour before I sit down." Malfoy glared at her.

Hermione put four pieces of toast into the Wizards toaster and turned the setting to 'golden brown' , they popped out almost immediately, toasted to perfection.

"Malfoy?" asked Hermione, as she brought them to the table, "Did you know your toaster was turned to 'Cremate' by any chance."

"Was it?"

"Mhmm. It was set to stun."

"Oh." Draco looked down at his bowl of cereal miserably. He hadn't realised he needed to _turn it down _He thought it was just broken.

"How long have you been eating burnt toast?" she quizzed.

"Too long." replied Malfoy. "Please don't _ever_ leave me."

Hermione laughed and took a bite of toast. "I'll try." she answered.

They ate together in silence for a while longer, neither feeling _particularly_ uncomfortable.

"What are we going to do today?" she asked at last, looking at him steadily over her teacup, as she cooled it with her breath.

Malfoy looked at her blankly.

"Well, we can't stay in the flat all day!" she exclaimed.

"Granger... you're an escaped prisoner..."

"Oh I'll put a glamour on. Or better yet, leave it off. They don't know what I really look like. Come on, we can go for a walk in the park."

"No." answered Draco. "No, it's full of Muggles."

"So? Are you scared of them or something? Come on, we need some fresh air."

"What's wrong with the balcony."

"Um, there's no grass, no flowers, no tree's-"

Draco felt a little cowed by the mention of trees, remembering his dream.

"Fine, we'll go!" he said quickly and a little too loudly. Hermione pretended not to notice.

"Good. Oh... and Draco?" she asked quietly.

"Could.... could I borrow some clothes?"

* * *

**Author's note.**

**I'd like to thank Dixiecharmer for all her wonderful advice for this story. We all have her to thank and/or blame for the sliiiiight smut.  
I'm glad she suggested the dirty dream, as I would never have managed to get 'smex' into this story so soon without it.  
Thanks Dixie, many props, snaps and all sorts of other internet comendations. xxx**


	17. Poppies

"_Could.... could I borrow some clothes?"_

Kensington Gardens was not far from Draco's flat. He and Hermione walked there together speaking every so often to remark on the passers by or an interesting window display. Draco had lent her a pair of old jeans, which she had shrunk using one of the seamstress spells Fluer had shown her. She also wore a dark blue jumper of his, which she ad not bothered to alter. It looked like a dress on her. Over this she wore her cropped leather jacket and a hat she had hap-hazardly transifgured from a tea cosy. He had to admit, she looked as lovely in his own clothes as she did her dressing up box look.

"You look awful." he lied.

"Thank you Draco, you're very sweet."

They arrived at the Gardens, at ten o' clock. Draco regretted not suggesting a more indoor activity as the trees reminded him a little too well of his unusual dream. He dug his short nails into his palms and forced himself to admire the view.

"Oh Malfoy, just look at the leaves... aren't they beautiful?"

He nodded, his eyes fixed on the skyline.

"Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness." she sighed.

Draco dragged his eyes from the horizon and smirked at her. "You fucking muggle."

She laughed. "Come on, Lets see if we can walk all the way round before lunch."

They walked down a broad avenue, lined with trees. They talked a little, as they had done on the way to the parks.

"Why are so many people out running?" asked Draco, staring after another lycra clad jogger. "Why would they do it to themselves? It's a _Sunday_, and they clearly do _not_ enjoy it."

"It's the _way_ they all run that I like. Have you noticed? My favourite is the head down gambol." Hermione said, stopping to tie her laces.

"Your favourite? How many ways are there?"

"Well, when General Harry takes us all out running-"

"_General_? Prick. Does he make you call him that?" asked Draco, as he snapped a dead twig off the tree Hermione lent on.

"No. He hates it. _I_ call him it when he starts losing perspective and acting... like some sort of general."

"Oh." said Draco, looking at the stick. He threw it away angrily.

"Can we talk about something _other _than your _precious_ Potter." It wasn't a request.

"Whatever." muttered Hermione and they were silent for a long while. He moodily followed her towards a long body of water, much like a canal but broader. Continuing along it until Hermione turned left and walked through a gate in the railings. In front of her stood a large cast iron statue of a scrawny looking boy.

"Who's that?" he asked her sullenly.

"Peter Pan."

"Who?"

"He's the boy who never grew up. Much like Ron." Seeing Draco's puzzled expression, she elaborated. "It's a muggle story. About a little boy who ran away to a place called Never Never Land where children never grow up and there are Pirates and Red Indians and everything is wonderful. He had a sort of girlfriend called Wendy... but she left him to grow up. It's quite a sad story really but muggle children like it... probably because of the Pirates... and because he can fly."

"_I _can fly Granger. I don't want to see a stupid Muggle statue to me."

"Well you can go drown yourself in the Long Water, while I look at the 'stupid muggle statue' if that's how you feel."

Draco huffed

"Is this _it_."

"Yes."

"It doesn't... _do_ anything?"

"No."

"It's awful."

"Fine."

"Can we go home now?"

"You're such a child."

"Can we?"

"Fine." Hermione stomped off at such a speed that Draco had to half jog to keep up with her.

"Granger? Will you please slow down?"

"No."

Draco hurried to keep up with her. He was furious. He knew he had the house keys, without which she could not hope to get into the flat- not with his magic repelling front door- but he couldn't let her go. He wanted to hex her, shake her or at least insult her.

"What's your fucking problem, mudblood?" he called after her. "Why are you being such a stupid bitch?" He lowered his voice a little, a muggle man sat on a bench having cowed him with a cough and a glare. "Slow the fuck _down_."

She did not comply and she tore down the tree lined avenue out of the path so fast he thought she must have charmed her shoes. Distantly the clock began striking eleven.

"Hermione!" shouted Draco after her, not noticing the entire park was deathly still and silent.

"Get lost." she told him, only to have her arm caught by a complete stranger. Fortunately, for the well-meaning muggle, she hesitated in drawing her wand. He put his fingers to his lips and pointed at a red paper flower on his lapel. Hermione's cross faced smoothed with understanding and she nodded to him, turning to the panting Wizard at her side and giving him the same signal.

Draco could not work out what was going on. Hermione was just standing there, with her head bowed, not saying anything. He looked around him, it looked as though everyone else in the park was doing the same thing. Even the children were still, standing exaggeratedly straight, with their fingers pressed against their lips, looking at the grown-ups angelically. Somewhere in the distance Draco heard the sound of a bugle.

"Hermioneee!" he hissed, only to have her hand clamped over his mouth. The muggle man was glaring at him so furiously Draco was a little afraid of him. He put his hand into his coat pocket and clutched at his wand, just in case. He decided not to struggle against her cold little hand, instead, he snaked his tongue through his lips and licked it. She snatched her head away glaring at him, and bowed her head again. The bugle stopped playing and everywhere was hushed. Even the sounds of London traffic had stopped. The wind rushed through the leaves.

After a little while longer, the angry looking muggle checked his watch. Hermione also looked up.

"I'm so sorry!" she told him. "I clean forgot about the time."

The man nodded but took a step towards Draco. "If I hadn't just spent the past two minutes contemplating the horrors of war, _mate_," he said. "I would punch you in your fat disrespectful head!"

He picked up his briefcase, nodded to Hermione, and continued on his way.

Draco was stunned. He didn't even answer the man, he just turned to Hermione raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"I'm sorry Malfoy." she was saying. "I should have remembered and warned you about that."

"About what? About how muggles take a moment from their day to 'contemplate war' and threaten well meaning strangers in the park?"

"No, no, you don't understand-"

"Well then explain it." he said angrily.

"Decades ago the muggles had a war, a _world_ war, which nearly all of them were fighting. Millions of young men were killed-"

"Yes I do know about that Granger, do you think I live in some sort of bubble?"

"Well, because so many died, and more were killed in the _second_ world war and in hundreds of conflicts later, muggles in this country have two minutes of silence, once a year, 'on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month' to commemorate the day peace was declared after the First World War. And they wear those red flowers to honour the occasion."

"Why?"

"Something to do with poppies growing on the battle fields the following Spring."

"Oh." said Draco solemnly. "Come on, let's go home."

***

When they reached the flat, or "Malfoy Towers" as Hermione had dubbed it, they had both cheered up a little after Draco's mishap. He had even let her tease him a little. But not much. After lunch Draco started drawing what he could remember of the Ministry of Magics layout while Hermione flipped through his book about the wizard adventurer, laughing at the _very_ badly written bits and reading them aloud in a theatrical voice.

"O_ur hero raised his mighty wand of willow and drove back the Ashwinder. His goodly face was set grimly to the task before him and his flowing robes billowed around his triumphant form- _Oh god this is funny! Wait wait there's more, listen; _'Be gone beast' cried Merlic and he sent a ray of ice deep into the creature's heart. Watching it burn in the cold, the pure young man quipped 'It's time you cooled off.'_ ha ha ha-" and she descended into fits of hysterics through which she could scarcely catch her breath.

She looked up from the book, which she had pressed to her face to try and muffle her laughter, to see Malfoy standing over her looking murderous.

"If you aren't going to read it properly, give it back."

She tried to answer him, but found she could not stop laughing for long enough. He tore the book from her weak grasp and threw it onto the table, before clambering onto the sofa with her and pinning her down.

"Stop laughing." he ordered.

She, very loudly, did not comply.

"... mighty wand of willow..." she gasped, "...time you cooled off!"

Malfoy was getting angrier and angrier. First she had dragged him out of the flat to a muggle park, then she had nearly gotten himself lynched and to cap it, she was laughing at his guiltiest of pleasures. He gripped her arms tightly where he was pinning her. "Shut up!"

"Be... Be gone Beast!" she told him and so he shook her. This only resulted in her laughing even harder than she had been before, almost as though she was enjoying be shaken about by him.

At his wits end, Draco lent over and kissed her.


	18. Truth

_At his wits end, Draco lent over and kissed her._

She stopped laughing. Taking this to be a good sign, he kissed her harder. She started pushing him away and squealing through her nose, her mouth clamped shut against him. He took this to be a bad sign.

"What?" he asked her.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

"You kissed me in the Ministry."

"Yeah, because I didn't want to die."

Malfoy sat up, looking down at her, lying propped against the cushions as she had been in his dream. Only she looked incredibly angry. She had been using him. All the time she had been manipulating him. To get him to save her, to convince him to break out others, to go for a walk in the park and make a scene with an indignant muggle. She _owed_ him.

"You conniving little mudblood." his voice was quiet. It scared Hermione more than anything else he could have done.

"Malfoy... I didn't mean it like, ow let go of me! mph mmmw get off me! Help! Fire!"

Malfoy had grabbed her ankles and pulled her down to lie flat on the sofa, before leaning over and kissing her again. Roughly this time, not playfully like he had only a moment before. Breaking away after a moment he asked her,

"What's the matter _mudblood _do you not like it when it's not on your terms?"

"Get. Off. Of. Me. NOW!"

"Well now you see _Hermione, _I am in a bit of a predicament here. If I got off you now, you would grab your wand and hex me into next week."

"If you don't get off me NOW I'll hex you a new arsehole."

"This is my predicament." he said, with a nasty smile.

"Get off!"

"No I don't think I will. I want some answers first."

"Answers? To what? If you do not let me go this instant I am going to-"

"Quiet pet." said Draco causally, covering her mouth with his hand. "I need to think for a minute."

Hermione struggled. She tried to bite his hand but found she could not manage to grasp any flesh between her teeth to do it. She wondered if she might have managed if she hadn't let Madame Pomfrey shrink them.

"Why were you in Borgins & Burkes?" he asked eventually, lifting his hand away from her mouth.

"Spying."

"All eight of you? I don't believe you mudblood, try again."

Shit. Why had they thought eight would be better? Why had she not just gone with Harry or Ginn or someone. It wasn't necessary for so many to have been there.

"I... I was trying to get caught." she told him honestly.

"Why?"

"We needed someone in the Ministry of Magic."

"Again; why?"

"To get to you."

Draco's felt his insides drop.

"What for?"

"Malfoy-"

"_What for mudblood_?"

Hermione closed her eyes. She was no longer even angry with him. What had she thought? That she could kiss him, hug him constantly, wear his clothes and not be leading him on?

'Leading him on?' she thought angrily. 'I have not been leading him on. That's just a stupid thing men say when they've been turned down!'

But deep in her heart, she felt guilty. She had been lying to him. All along.

She propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him shamefacedly. "I'm so sorry."

He pushed her back down roughly, leaning forwards again so they were face to face. She could barely breath with his weight pressing down on her. He shifted his weight a little until he no longer crushed her.

"_Why_ are you sorry?"

"Draco... we, we just needed your blood to scry for your father." His eyebrows knotted together.

"My father?"

"If we can find him... we can find You-know-who."

"Vold-"

Unable to move her arms to stop him, Hermione lunged her head forwards and cut him off with a harsh kiss. Understanding her meaning, Draco forced himself not to kiss her back. He pulled away.

She looked up at him guiltily. "Oh Malfoy." she whispered, her eyes full of tears. "But I _do_ care about you now."

He wanted so much to scoff at her. To sneer and say she could keep her caring for Potter and Weasley... but her affection was... He realised it was _all_ he had. His mother was dead, his father was gone and he had no friends. The deceitful woman lying beneath him was the closest thing he had to friendship.

Hermione watched, with tear-filled eyes, as he stared at her. Anger radiated from him. She had never felt so awful as she did in that single moment. Even when Voldemort escaped the battlegrounds before Harry could finish him Hermione had not felt such an overwhelming sense of failure. She had succeeded in her mission she supposed. She could apparate The both of them back to Shell cottage that instant, and have the DA restrain him, while somebody cut him, took his blood and used it to find his father. But she had failed herself, stomping on all her morals in the pursuit of victory. She looked up at his pale face, his dirty hair and bloodshot eyes. The grey of his irises was glowing like metal against the tiny red thread veins. He screwed them shut as though he could not bear to look at her.

Hermione found herself being crushed again as Draco buried his face in her hair, relaxing his body into hers. She felt very small.

He whispered something to her.

"What?" she answered.

"I _said_," his voice a fraction louder, "Of course you care: I'm irresistible."

She laughed with relief and pulled her arms free, to wrap them around him and he snuggled into her. Hermione lay staring at the ceiling, stroking the back of his head and carding her fingers through his fair hair, for a long while. Draco had fallen asleep. Wriggling into a slightly more comfortable position beneath the sleeping wizard, Hermione leant her head against his and closed her eyes.

Draco and Hermione were fast asleep, with their limbs entwined around each other and breathing gently, when the gold wizards watch on Hermione's wrist glowed as the clock struck six.


	19. Peter Dan

_Draco and Hermione were fast asleep, with their limbs entwined around each other and breathing gently, when the gold wizards watch on Hermione's wrist glowed as the clock struck six._

"Hermione?" called a crackly voice. "Hermione are you there?"

Draco lifted his head from the witches curls to see the watch glowing gently. A tinny voice he recognised as Weasleys was coming from it. Gently, so as not to wake Hermione, he slipped it off her slender wrist. "Fuck off Weasel. We're asleep."

"Malf-" the voice crackled again and disappeared as Draco twisted the various dials. Replacing it on Hermione's wrist as carefully as he removed it, Draco smiled to himself evily. '_Mine.'_

_***_

Draco was vaguely aware of Hermione pushing him off her and wriggling out from under him. He tightened his grip and yawned softly.

"_Where_ do you think your going?"

"I'm hungry. Get off me."

Smiling sleepily he pushed himself off her and rolled into the cushions at the back of the sofa. She stood up, dragging the long sleeves of his blue jumper up to her elbows. "Get up. I'm going to show you how to cook a casoulet."

Draco turned his face into the fabric of the comfy seat. "No, I spoil cooking with my good looks alone." mumbled into the pillows. "And they'll probably be some sort of secret ingredient you wont tell me about." he added reproachfully.

"Come on Malfoy, don't be such a brat."

"I don't want to learn to cook any more."

"Oh?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"I've decided you're just going to have to stay with me forever." She laughed and tried to pull him up. "No!" he was saying, "There's no point in learning. You do the cooking, I encourage you with my witty charm and devastatingly good looks!"

She eventually managed to drag him into the kitchen, where he leaned sullenly against the counter and scowled as he watched her chop up an onion. "It's just like potion brewing." she told him. "You just throw in the ingredients and simmer it."

"That is _not_ just like potion making. Potions is a precise art. You do not 'throw in the ingredients'."

"I know that Malfoy. I did achieve an outstanding in my exams."

"My marks were higher though."

"How would you know?"

"Snape told me."

"Yeah, well Snape also said that dogs can't look up." she muttered darkly, as she crushed a clove of garlic with the flat side of her knife.

Malfoy laughed for a moment, but his mirth was cut short. "When did he tell you that?"

Oh drat it.

Why had she not just told him the entire story? It was a bit late now, she had already 'come clean' and if she started dropping into conversation that Snape was, in fact, the mastermind behind the plan, Draco might stop trusting her all together.

"Oh, at school probably. I think it was something he said to Ron once."

"Hmmm. Should they be spitting like that?" The onions were frying noisily on the hob.

"Yes. I know it seems a bit extreme but that's how Molly does it and it turns out ok."

"Molly Weasley? The-"

"Mafoy I will not hear a word against Molly!"

"Calm down Gryffindor, there's no need to point knives at me. Does she cook at your headquarters?"

"Yes."

"And she taught you?"

"Yes."

"Well then I'll wait until we get there then and _she _can teach me."

"Draco... I don't think she will want to."

He was already walking back to the sitting room. Insufferable git. Hermione was tempted to deliberately burn half of it to a cinder and force him to eat it, while she enjoyed her properly prepared share. However, she had felt how bony he was through his robes while they had been napping together on the sofa and decided against it.

Malfoy enjoyed yet another perfectly prepared Molly-meal. It was so delicious that he actually managed a fourth helping. Hermione couldn't help but feel a little pleased. "Enjoying that, are you Malfoy?"

"Anything less than half carbon is good enough for me-"

"Oh, well then it that case I wont take so much trouble next time!"

"Do you always interrupt people like that, or am I a special case?" he paused. She crossed her arms and glared but said nothing. "Anything less than half carbon is good enough for me _but_ I have never enjoyed food as much as I do your cooking."

"Creep."

"That's as maybe but you're still blushing."

"Hmmph. I have decided something Draco."

"What? That sounds ominous. What?"

"I cooked. Therefore you must wash up."

"I don't know how! I don't know any spells!"

"Well then you'll just have to do it without magic; it will be character building. Fill the sink with hot water and soap and scrub everything until it's clean. I'm going for a bath."

"No! You can't! Come back Gryffindor!"

"And if you even think about bursting into the bathroom and putting the dishes in the bath _with_ me-"

"We think too similarly."

"-I will hex the life out of you and possibly drown you too. Now get scrubbing."

Draco listened to her draw a bath while he stared at the plates and pans by the sink. He tried to remember how _she_ had gotten them to wash themselves... but quickly gave up. she used non-verbal magic alot of the time.

Dejected, he filled the sink. He decided to wash the saucepan first, as that was obviously the dirtiest. He lowered it carefully into the water and began 'scrubbing' it as she had told him. He could hear Hermione singing in the bath. As he swished the glasses up and down in the soapy water, he tried to fathom how he had managed to go from ministry drone and disgraced deatheater... to domestic bliss with a muggleborn. He didn't try too heard to figure it all out, he was slightly afraid that if he understood how the impossible had happened he would wake himself up.

He had to return to work the next day, perhaps that was the shadow that proved his rosy picture of the day was real. But tomorrow he would no longer be a drone. He would be 'the man on the inside', a spy like his Godfather had been... only on the other side. What would happen to Snape if Hermione's side won? Would he be sentenced to Azkaban? To the kiss? Not if Draco could help it. He decided that once he was at the Headquarters of The Order, he would find a way to get Snape over too.

Draco shook himself and started to wash the cutlery. He left the chopping board and the wooden spoon Hermione had used to stir their supper untill last. With those out of the way, he left the kitchen for his bedroom, he needed a shower after all that work. His shirt was soaked through with washing-up water and his hands were covered in an unpleasant film of grease.

However, it appeared that his houseguest had borrowed the few toiletries he had in the bathroom. Only his toothbrush and a bar of soap, which she had obviously forgone in favour of his shower gel, remained.

'Lightfingered witch.' He thought crossly, as he scrubbed at his pale skin with the soap. It was no particularly _un_pleasant, the strong soap actually made him feel cleaner than the creamy lather of his sweet smelling shower gel. He sort of preferred it actually. He even used it on his hair, which as Hermione had noted earlier, was quite dirty. He hadn't really been paying much attention to himself over the past week. While he was at the manor, waiting to bury his mother, he had not cared about how he looked. He had only showered for the funeral because Snape made him and since then had returned to his usual habits, but for some readon he had neglected to wash his hair.

Although the soap had won him over when it came to his skin, Malfoy was less than pleased with what it did to his hair. It was almost as though he had put a corroding potion in it! He would definately not be doing it again. Stepping out of the shower and rubbing his skin dry with the towel, he shouted. "Hermione! What have you done with all my stuff?"

She shouted something back which he could not understand. He dropped his towel and went back into his room, where he dressed quickly in a pair of pale silk pyjamas, before quitting the room entirely.

"Hermione?" he knocked on the spare room door.

"What?"

"Can I come in?"

"Erm.... yeah just a second!"

It was all Draco could do not to "misshear" her and open the door before she was decent but he resisted. Eventually she opened it for him.

"What? You look like a ghost." she said, seeing his white form dressed in even lighter clothes. Draco looked at her wild hair, no longer falling in perfect barrel curls. He preferred it.

"Your hair looks nice. Where's my stuff?"

"Oh! She turned round and walked to the bathroom, reappearing a moment later, carrying a bottle each of shampoo and shower gel and a tube of toothpaste. "You really need to go shopping Malfoy."

He took the three items from her and looked at them The tube of toothpaste was nearly empty but the bottles were both about half full. "Why?"

"Well... you don't... is that _all_ you usually have?"

"Yes."

"No... no conditioner? No bubble bath? Just... shampoo and shower gel?"

"I don't need anything else."

"Oh."

They were silent for a moment as Hermione bit her lip thoughtful at him and Draco wondered why on earth he needed bubblebath.

"I'm going to bed." he said at last. "Are you coming?"

"What!?" Hermione blushed scarlet, reminding him again of her old school house as her eyes, shining like gold in the dark light, widened a little at his question. "Why would ... That isn't a very funny thing to say Malfoy."

"It was for me." he said. "Anyway, if you don't want to, you don't have to. It was just a suggestion."

"Yeah well, keep your suggestions to yourself in future." she bit her lip again,

"You do know I'm going out with Ron... don't you?"

"Yes."

She looked relieved. "Good. Because I-"

"Granger. Shut up." His lip lifted in disgust. "I was _joking_. Do you really think I'd want a mudblood like _you_ in my bed?"

She scowled. "Goodnight Malfoy." and she slammed the door in his face. The lock clicked a moment later.

"Why don't you go back to Weasel if you love him so fucking much!" he shouted through the wood. She did not answer and he thumped his hand against it in frustration. He had not really meant for her to share his bed. It would have been nice but he had only sought to tease her. Why did she have to bring her bloody 'boyfriend' into it. What was so special about Weasley. Why should Weasley, who had never been at all remarkable, get to have her? Why shouldn't he? He was richer and clever and... probably needed her more. Weasley had his mother to cook for him and a whole house full of friends by the sound of what Hermione had been telling him. If they won, he'd have flocks of witches wanting him while Draco tried to claw back any sort of standing in society.

"Hermione" he shouted. "Open the door!"

"Piss off and leave me alone!" she shouted back angrily, but her voice broke slightly and Draco's anger fell as he realised _she_ was upset too.

"Hermione?" he was gentler, "I didn't mean it. Open the door."

"No."

His anger very quickly returned.

"Fine! I'll fucking break it down!"

Hermione listened to his attempts to smash the door off it's hinges, sat cross legged on her bed. "For goodness sake." she muttered and wiped her eyes as she got up. She thought he would hear the key turning in the lock and would stop throwing his weight against the door. He did not and he crashed through the empty door frame landing with a bump at her feet.

As the pyjama clad wizard glared up at her from the floor Hermione's lip twitched.

"It's not funny, _mudblood_" he spat, and she had to lean against the now open door for support she laughed so hard. He scambled to his feet. "It is _not _funny!"

She choked back her giggles. "It, ahem, it is a bit."

"I only bloody wanted to see if you were alright." He sat down heavily on her bed, nursing a bruised elbow and/or ego.

"It was your fault I wasn't in the first place!" she tossed her head and clamoured onto the bed and under the covers. "Malfoy?"

"Yes?" he looked over his shoulder at her hopefully.

"Would you put out the light on your way out?" she asked, as she snuggled down into the pillows, pulling the duvet up to her chin. She looked comfortable. And oddly inviting.

"Eventually." he answered.

"Eventually? What do you want now?" Her eyes were closed, but she felt him crawling up the bed and lying on top of the covers next to her.

"... I want you to tell me that story about Peter Dan."

She opened her eye a fraction and glared at him happily.


	20. I don't like quiche

_She opened her eye a fraction and glared at him happily._

"Peter woke up to find the den empty. True to her word, Wendy had taken all of the lost boys home with her and left him on his own. He regretted letting her go. Getting out of his hammock he spotted the 'medicine' she had left on the table." Hermione paused, Draco had closed his eyes.

"He decided he would drink it, one last time." she continued. "Saddened by the thought of it being his last taste of the disgusting medicine he raised it to his lips, preparing to savour the foul taste. But Tinkerbell, knowing that Captain Hook had dripped poison into it, flew about his head trying to stop him. 'Poisoned?' he scoffed. 'Of course it's not poison, no-body's been down here!' and he lifted the bottle to his lips, about to drink it one. Tinkerbell bravely flew in front of his mouth and drank it all herself." She expected him to jeer at this example of self-sacrifice but Draco said nothing. He lay beside her breathing gently.

"Are you asleep?" she asked softly. he did not reply. "For goodness sake!" she huffed and she put out the lights with a flick of her wand. Snuggling down into the pillows she did not see Draco's demonic grin of triumph.

He waited until he was sure she really _was_ asleep before he scooped her up carefully and pulled her close to his chest.

'Who's winning now Weasel?' Malfoy thought gleefully, as he slipped into sleep more peaceful than he had had in years.

***

When Hermione awoke, she was alone again. She felt oddly contented and had a vague recollection of having an unfamiliar feeling of warmth and safety as she slept. She couldn't remember Draco leaving before she fell asleep but assumed it must have been quite soon after as he was nowhere to be seen. She put her contentment down to her half confession the previous day.

She got out of bed and padded barefoot into the kitchen, where she found a note from Draco.

_Gone to work.  
Why are you always asleep?_

_Draco 'Man-on-the-inside' Malfoy._

Hermione smiled as she put the kettle on to boil. That evening they would go over everything he found out and see if they could come up with a plan. She would finally be helping people again and not hiding away in a packed out cottage with nothing to do but duelling practice and cross country runs. She hated the feeling of uselessness she had so often felt back at Shell cottage. She hadn't even recognized it until she was in Borgin &burkes.

Here, at 'Malfoy Towers' she felt so much happier than she had at Shell cottage. She supposed it was because she had more privacy too but mostly it was because she felt like she was _doing_ something. Malfoy had left her a basic floor plan of the Ministry to learn and the task of devising a basic plan for their rescue attempt. She didn't have as many resource books as she would have liked... she didn't actually have _any _but to have the task itself was a relief.

She stirred milk into her tea contemplatively. Was that that the only reason she was so happy here? She ran a finger over Draco's note. She had to admit, she was growing quite fond of him.

Or used to him at least.

***

Draco walked through Diagon Alley marvelling at the pleasure of anonymity. Usually, wherever he went, witches and wizards stopped talking as he walked passed. Or avoided looking at him. Or crossed the road. No one wanted to get too close to a Deatheater.

But, with Hermione's rubber mask transfigured to look like a plain young man covering his face, nobody even looked at him. True, hey hadn't looked at him before but it was the way they weren't looking at him that Draco liked. Their faces were no longer blank or worried; people laughed, argued and chatted. It was not until reached Madame Malkin's shop- and the bell above the door tinkled as he went in, announcing his presence- that anybody looked at him.

"Hello young man" greeted the witch. "How can I help you today?"

***

When he got home that evening it was already dark outside and the air was thought there would probably be a frost that night. He put down the leather briefcase he was carrying and began fumbling with the keys. He started to swear to himself as the lock refused to turn.

"Why have I still not got this fucker fixed!" he hissed. He heard Hermione's voice through the wood of the door. She was talking to someone. An image of Hermione sat with the old muggle woman from upstairs drinking tea flashed across his mind. Interfering witch it would be so like her to have taken it upon herself to 'get to know the neighbours'. It was London for merlin's sake; _nobody_ knew their neighbours. However, as the key finally agreed to turn and he managed to get the door open, he soon realised she was talking to Potter.

The sound of his voice was flat and nearly drowned out by static. "How long do you think it will take Hermione?"

"I don't know, I'm waiting for Draco to get back from the ministry so we can start planning." A voice in the background, barely discernible in the crackling, sounded incredulous.

"_Draco now is it!"_

"Harry? What's going on? Was that Ron?"

"Er.... I think you two need to have a bit of a chat actually. I'll- er -I'll leave you alone." He sounded incredibly uncomfortable and the voice in the background said something like,

"Too bloody right we need a bit of a chat!"

"Ron?" Hermione was sat on the sofa, facing away from Malfoy as he carefully closed the door behind him. "What on earth is the matter?"

"The Ferret is the matter!" his voice was so loud it rattled the watch. "Oh wait it's _Draco_ now isn't it?"

"Ron!" Draco nearly laughed at her shocked angry tone. "What exactly is it you are implying?"

"Oh nothing." It clearly was _not_ nothing, "It's only that when I tried to speak to you last night, your new friend told me to fuck off because 'we're asleep'!"

Hermione did not respond. Slowly she turned around to look at Draco. She looked a lot less cross than he was expecting. She looked irritated more than anything.

"Well we were." he murmured.

Draco smiled innocently and she sighed.

"And you actually believed him, Ron?" she did her best to sound cutting.

"What am I supposed to think!" he rattled the watch again. "Even if he was lying-"

"_IF?"_

Draco was amazed to see how she was turning this around.

"It still doesn't explain what he was doing with _my watch_!"

"Oh he probably picked it up when I took it off to wash up or something. I can't believe you are taking this seriously Ronald." she got up and walked out to the balcony. Draco followed.

"When you have grown up a bit let me know." She told the watch. "But until then you can keep your suspicions to yourself!" and she twisted the dial round, cutting him off, before he had chance to respond.

"Well thank God for that." said Draco.

She glared at him and flicked her wand, summoning a packet of cigarettes wordlessly. With hands that trembled she tried to strike a match. "Here let me." said Draco taking the box from her. She allowed him to light her cigarette for her, refusing to look at him as he did it.

"I _cannot_ believe you did that." she said at last.

"Really? Well, I did."

"Draco Malfoy, you bastard." she muttered. "I _know_ you did. I just can't bring myself to _believe_ that you actually _told him_! What were you thinking?"

"That I was asleep and he was annoying me."

"So you just told him we were sleeping together?"

"No, I said we were _asleep_ together. There is a difference."

"Well Ron clearly doesn't think so!"

"Weasley's clearly an idiot."

"_Weasley_ is my boyfriend! Why did you do it? I thought we were friends now Draco!"

Malfoy certainly didn't want to be friends. He wanted so much more. "We are."

"So _why_?"

"Because he was annoyi-" Hermione stamped her foot and screamed. "Alright, calm down. " he said. "I'll tell him it was just a joke when we get to headquarters."

"You're bloody right you will!" Hermione took a deep breath. It wasn't the end of the world. Ron would calm down; Draco would apologise...probably. "Now then. What have you found out at the Ministry._"_

"I'll tell you later."

"Why later?" she raised an eyebrow distrustfully. "Why not n.... Draco, what was the first thing you said to me?"

"Do we _have_ to do this again?" he asked her. "Fine. 'Oi Longbottom, I've found your toad.' are you happy?"

"Ask me something."

"No."

"Draco, if we don't get into the habit of this now-"

He growled at her, but jerked his head towards the kitchen and asked, "What are you making?"

She smiled at him. "Supper."

"What?"

"Quiche."

"I don't like quiche."

"Well if you'd let me show you how to cook a casoulet you could have made yourself that instead. You'll just have to have cereal or something if you don't want what I'm making."

"God you're annoying."

"Mmm. So why can't we discuss our plan, now?

"Because I've got something for you." He went back inide. Hermione watched him through the glass as he took a small package out of some sort of leather folder. Tapping it with his wand and muttering, Malfoy expanded the parcel. Hermione stubbed out her cigarette and went in.

"For you." he said, pushing the, now quite large, bundle over the table to Hermione.

With wary fingers, she undid the string and unfolded the brown paper. Draco watched covetously as her face lit up with a warm smile. "You didn't have to do that." she said.

"I did actually. Neither of us knows how to enlarge clothes and I did not fancy having to wear my clothes in your size. So now you have your own. I wasn't sure what size you were so I had to get you self-sizing stuff."

Hermione lifted out a pale blue robe; it was pretty shapeless. She supposed it would shrink and stretch into a more flattering style. "Thank you Malfoy." she beamed.

"Aren't you going to try it on?"

"No, I want to see what else you got." she answered, already pulling out another robe. This was more like a muggle dress and would have been Hermione's favourite, had it not been for the pattern. "Oh Ha ha." she said. "very funny."

Although the dress itself was mostly white, it was covered in a repeating green pattern of the Slytherin coat of arms.

"I thought you'd like it; as soon as I saw the fabric. I had the woman in the shop make it specially."

"You goit."

"Goit?"

"Goit. What else is there?"

"I don't know." He sat down and drummed his fingers on the table. "I just told Malkin that my girlfriend had come to stay but her bags hadn't arrived yet. She put a few essentials together. But I chose the dress...You're blushing."

"You could have said I was your sister." she mumbled.

"I could." he answered looking at her intensely. "I didn't."

Hermione huffed a little. Picking up the large parcel she said. "I'm going to go try these on then. Keep an eye on the quiche would you?"

"I said I don't like quiche!" Hermione however was already walking away to the spare room.

"You said you didn't like me either." she called. "And you got over that pretty quickly. Just keep an eye on it."

************

Hermione sat on her bed rummaging through the no longer neat pile of clothes. She found two jumpers, one grey and one red, another shapeless robe, this one was darker blue, with a golden brocaded boarder, which moved. Hermione wondered how this robe could be described as 'essential'. But then she remembered what Madame Malkin had said when she gave Ron the fine dress robe he usually wore.

"_There's no one wanting to buy dressrobes these days" she had sighed and smoothed the silk mournfully. "Not much call for festivities it seems. You take it. I couldn't let you leave without thanking you."_

_Ron, being Ron, had glowed redly. "I couldn't possibly." he was saying._

"_If it weren't for you my daughter would have been killed during the battle of Hogworts. She told me that the red-haired boy that fought beside Harry Potter saved her from that loathesome Fenrir Greyback!" The plump witch's voice shook a little. "She said you stunned him when he tried to grab her."_

"_You never told me that." Hermione had said. "That was very brave of you Ron!"_

"_Yes." agreed Malkin. "It was. So please, just to make me feel a little better, would you accept this as a gift? You can't go back out in those. You'll catch your death of cold."_

_Ron had looked down at his singed clothes. The fiend-fire had burnt holes through his jumper, which was fraying rapidly. "Thank you." he said, and he took the robe._

Business had obviously not picked up. She found a couple of other items in her parcel which Malkin had obviously been keen to get rid of. Hermione and the other inhabitants of Shell Cottage all wore whatever clothes they could lay their hands on, the result being an eclectic mix of colour and styles. If the fine robe and the slytherin dress were anything to go by, her dressing up box days were not yet behind her.

She reappeared in the sitting room wearing her Slytherin dress and a pair of silk stockings that '_Spangled_' (as the packaging had put it) uncontrollably. Draco smirked into his book as she walked passed him into the kitchen. Which was full of smoke.

"DRACO MALFOY DID YOU TURN THE OVEN UP!?"

Coughing and with watering eyes, she banished the clouds of smoke with her wand and tried to get the windows open. She didn't realise he was stood behind her until he spoke.

"I don't like quiche."


	21. Burnt

"_I don't like quiche."_

Hermione flung open the oven door, sending another cloud of smoke into the kitchen She was not amused. "What the fuck is _wrong_ with you!"

"What? I don't like quiche. Lets go out for dinner instead, my treat." Hermione stared at him. Her face was livid, her cheeks were red and her eyes dark. She balled her fists and dug her nails into her palms.

"You can't just buy me off! She screamed.

"Oh come on." Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't take it like that."

"How would you feel if I deliberately, _deliberately _burnt something you made for me?"

"Well if it was a quiche I don't think I'd mind." He answered. Hermione made a sort of high pitched noise in the back of her throat and spun on her heel. "Running away Gryffindor?" he shouted after her.

She did not reply but when she reappeared with Draco's Kusudama he understood her meaning quite clearly. He understood it even better when she began to pull it to pieces.

Draco watched her in silence, his lips pressed into a grim line, as Hermione ripped it beyond repair. When she was done, she pointed her wand at the pile of paper at her feet.

"Incendio!"

The pile of paper burnt up in an instant, leaving nothing of the beautiful creation but ash.

"Don't worry Draco." Her tone was not exactly comforting. "I'll _buy_ you a _new_ one."

She flounced out to the spare room. Draco did not go after her. He looked down at the ashes at his feet.

_'I'll buy you a new one...' _

That stung.

***

Much later that evening, when Draco decided she had probably calmed down enough, he filled a plate with sandwiches and took it to her door. He knocked loudly; still not entirely calm himself.

"Granger? We need to go over what I found out at the Ministry."

"I don't want to speak to you."

He dragged his hand through his hair. They had to get moving, just because he would never be suspected of helping her didn't mean it wasn't dangerous for them to stay there. They had forgotten that. They had been too wrapped up in their domestic concerns. Suddenly their late suppers and origami seemed very foolish. They needed to get to headquarters, where they would at least be safe. If it weren't for Hermione's promise of Harry's displeasure, Draco wouldn't even consider helping the prisoners still in the Ministry.

"I'm sorry." he growled.

Hermione opened the door. "What?" she asked blankly.

"_I'm sorry."_

"What are you sorry for?" Draco scowled at her. She was playing it way was she? He was tempted to tell her he was sorry for ever helping her escape.

"For burning the supper."

She took the plate of sandwiches. "I'm sorry I ruined your paper flower thing."

"It's called a kusudama, Mudblood. And you didn't _ruin_ it, you _burned_ it."

"Yes. Well, I'm sorry." She walked away from the door to sit on the bed.

"'I'll buy you a new one'." muttered Draco. She looked up and held his gaze. "Just what was that supposed to mean?"

"Something along the lines of '_Let's go out for dinner, my treat_'." she answered sharply.

He seethed a little. "You think I'm just some spoilt little rich boy don't you."

"Draco," she laughed suddenly. "You _are_ a spoilt little rich boy."

"Don't laugh at me."

"Draco, how can you even cast doubt on it? You've always been spoiled, you'll always _be_ spoilt."

"Well it's a wonder you put up with me at all! Why don't you just go back to Potter and Weasley, god knows _Weasley's_ never been spoilt. And Potter the perpetually modest will-"

"Malfoy, shut up." she said calmly. She had not meant to upset him. Well... she _had_ but she felt bad about that now. "I didn't mean it like that. You are spoilt, yes. But Ron is an oaf and Harry is a vigilante."

"What's your point Mudblood?"

"Everyone has flaws. All we can do is try to make our virtues outshine them."

"I don't think I have the kind of virtues you're talking about." He crossed the room and sat down beside her, taking a sandwich.

"That's a bit defeatist."

"Ok, well tell me what _you_ think of my "virtues" then."

"You're quick-witted."

"That's not a virtue."

"Well _I_ think it is. I can't stand bores." He looked at her unnervingly.

"What else." He pressed

She thought for a moment "...You're cunning."

"What does that even mean? Don't just quote the Sorting Hat at me."

"I'm not! You're cunning in that you are clever in deceit."

"Thanks a lot."

"I may not admire it personally, but cunning is still a valuable thing to have."

"What else is good about me?"

"Urgh, I can't spend all night massaging your ego Draco!" she sighed. "We really have got to come up with some sort of plan."

"Humour me."

"You're determined." She answered crossly. "I'll give you that much. Even if you have been using that to run yourself into the ground."

"Sneaky, snarky and self-destructive?" His eyebrows knit in mock distress. "You make me sound like Snape."

"You have only your vanity to blame. Now tell me what you found out today at the Ministry."

"Fine." he put the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth and lay back on the bed, with his hands behind his head. "There's ten of them."

"As many as that! Oh God Malfoy, we have to get them out!"

He went on talking as though she had not interrupted. "They're all on level ten, except for Pomfrey, who is usually in a medical room on level three; 'Magical accidents and catastrophes'. She patches up the Deatheaters and Snatchers."

"What kind of rooms are they in?" Hermione asked, leaning back on an elbow to talk to him properly.

"Cells like yours."

"Well their doors aren't charmed in the same way as our interrogation room was. But they do have some pretty hefty magic on them. Do you know how often the prisoners are let out?"

"I doubt they are, at _all_." Malfoy drawled, lifting up and arm to cover his eyes. Hermione obviously knew how to work the muggle lighting and the bright bulb above him hurt his eyes. Why would anybody need such a bright light?

"Fuck it." Hermione threw herself down on the bed. "Have you got access to the cells?"

"Not usually."

"Could you get it? If you used some of that Slytherin cunning you might be able to find an excuse."

Malfoy turned his head slightly and lifted his arm to look at her. "Just how sneaky are we talking?"

"Well you wont be needing to go back afterwards so you've got quite a large license."

"I could tell them I've got an idea about how you got out. And insist on being allowed to poke about the cells at my leisure and on having regular access to the prisoners."

"That might work." she bit her lip thoughtfully. "I suppose if you were able to warn them first-"

"No."

"What?" Hermione sat up. "Why wouldn't you tell them about it? They need to know we're coming. That way they can be prepared. Not to mention the sense of hope it would give them!"

"No."

"Why the bloody hell not?"

"I don't trust _any_ of them. Some of them have been there for months Granger. I wouldn't be surprised if they betrayed me to the guards for an extra bread roll at lunchtime."

"That's quite a dark viewpoint." She said, looking at him with something a lot like concern etched across her face.

"I'm a dark wizard."

"No you're not." She tugged at his hair playfully, "You're practically albino." she bit her lip. "Well, if you aren't going to tell them what we're up to, how can you guarantee they wont panic and ruin everything?"

"I can't." He sat up and looked at her. "But if they're stupid enough to get caught they deserve to stay." He rose from the bed and made for the door.

"Would _you_ go with a Deatheater, just because he said he'd help you?"

He stopped but did not turn around. "_You_ did."

"Yeah, well I'm the exception."

She saw him smile to himself. "Goodnight Jane."

"Where are you going?" she asked.

He turned again to look at her. "To bed. Some of us have work in the morning Granger." He cocked his head, "Unless you want me to stay?"

Hermione found she desperately wanted him to stay. Which was odd. "No...I think we've gone over all we can tonight. We need to know if you can get into their cells before we can plan anything else."

"I may leave then?"

"You are excused."

Draco bowed, smiling to himself when she laughed.

"Twit."

Once Draco had closed the door, Hermione undressed and put on the nightie he had bought for her. She was relieved not to find a scrap of red satin as she had been expecting. But then, Draco had already had his fun with the Slytherin dress. She pulled the white cotton over her head, discovering that her modesty was perhaps not as safe as she had thought, as the fabric shrunk to fit her. But it was still a long way off the red number she had dreaded.

She put the light out and climbed into bed. For a long time she lay there while her mind worked furiously to come up with a foolproof way of breaking ten prisoners out of the Ministry of Magic. It was not going to be easy. Eventually she drifted off. The novelty of sleeping in an actual bed must have worn off however, as she didn't feel nearly as contented as she had the night before.

***

It was not until she was teetering on the verge of sleep that Hermione remembered the feeling of Draco Malfoy's warm body pressing against hers as she slept. Her eyes flew open suddenly and she sat up.

What the fuck was she doing?

What the fuck was _he_doing.

Breaking her out of the ministry, buying her clothes and now gratuitous spooning? She was so used to Luna cuddling up to her at night she had not even found it strange when the pair of them fell asleep together on the sofa. But the sofa was neutral ground; her bed most certainly wasn't. There wasn't anything in it... the poor boy thought his mother was dead, he was probably just getting so cuddly with her because she had almost stepped into Narcissa's shoes. Cooking his meals, making sure he got enough fresh air and sleep...

No. That wasn't it. Or at least not all of it. He was not just affectionate towards her, Hermione realised, he was actually a little possessive. The whole affair with the watch was pretty unsettling. She had glossed over it at the time- wanting to get cracking on their rescue plans- but now...she had to admit it was _creepy_.

"_Fuck off Weasley we're asleep"_

That was _not_ the kind of thing men usually said about other men's girlfriends. He hadn't even apologised. He just smiled at her while she tried desperately to claw back the moral high-ground from Ron.

Then there was the clothes. The gesture was innocent enough, if a little intimate. The expense would mean little to him and he was obviously only doing it to avoid having half his own wardrobe shrunk to Hermione's size. She thought about how funny he had looked, squeezed into her clothes, when the were in the ministry. He'd probably have split them completely had he not enlarg-

'Wait!' thought Hermione. 'He _does_ know how to stretch them back! He did it right in front of me... Oh but that still doesn't mean he'd want to share his clothes with me. He must have said that out of skewed politeness. No, the action in itself is completely admissible.'

"_I just told Malkin that my girlfriend had come to stay..."_

That was the alarming element.

"_You're blushing." _


	22. Ginny

"_**I just told Malkin that my girlfriend had come to stay..."**_

_That was the alarming element._

"_**You're blushing."**_

Hermione did not sleep well.

When she woke the next morning, Draco had not yet left for work and was standing in the kitchen trying to make himself a cup of tea.

There really _did_ seem to be something wrong with him when it came to any sort of household task. Hermione watched his attempts at boiling the kettle for a full minute. Her mouth twisted in amusement as every time he pushed down the lever that would start the kettle, he lifted it immediately afterwards. Unable to understand why it would not boil, he had poured out the water into the sink, stared into the bottom of it- shaken it a bit- and poured more water in, flicking the switch on and off again. How could she have felt unnerved by him? The man was an idiot.

"Would you like some help?" she asked making him jump.

"How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know you're just flicking that on and then off again." she moved passed him and pushed the switch, leaving it down. "Why didn't you just conjure boiling water?" she asked him. "You've done it before."

He knit his eyebrows together. "You always use this thing."

She shrugged. "Only out of habit. Molly insists on using a kettle. She says conjured water spoils the tea." She pushed her wild hair out of her eyes and yawned. "Have you thought any more about what to tell them at the ministry, to get access to the prisoners cells?"

Draco, who was not a morning person to begin with, was still scowling. He had only wanted to use the kettle because _she _did. He wanted to prove he could do stupid little things like that too. He straightened his robes and picked up his leather folder from the table. "Yes." he said.

"Well?"

God she annoyed him. Why wasn't she asleep? It was so much easier to like her in the mornings when she was curled up in bed and unconscious. "I'm late." he said simply, and he walked away to the front door.

"I thought you were having tea."

"You have it."

"Can I not come to work _with_ you?" That stopped Draco in his tracks. He stared at her from the half open front door. "It's so boring here alone all day. I want something to do!"

"Hermione... I did not throw my life away saving you from that place only to have you walk back in _willingly_." He shut the front door. He looked tired, with dark shadows under his eyes again. But, more than anything, he looked cross. "Do you know what they would have _done_ to you by now?"

"I'm so glad you think you threw your life away Malfoy. That's really sweet."

"It is isn't it?" he replied angrily.

"You're such a prick."

"Actually Granger, I'd have thought throwing my life away for _your_ benefit was sweet. The least you could do is be grateful. You owe me."

"_Owe_ you?"

"Yes. And luckily for you all I want in return is for you to stay alive."

"Oh how kind of you." she answered dryly as he returned from the door to stand in front of her again. All her fears from the night before were being slowly confirmed by Draco. He stopped very close to her, so that she had to look up to talk to him. She wasn't going to let _that_ intimidate her.

"Draco." she said firmly, "You cannot wrap me up in cotton wool. It was a very brave thing, to help me break out, but it does not mean you can tell me what to do."

"Well tough, because I'm still going to."

"you know what Draco, _this_ is why people like Ron and Harry more than you. They don't go around trying to force their will on everyone."

"And they handed you over to the Ministry on the slightest chance that you might get me on side- on the _thin_ pretext of scrying for my father who will _perhaps_ lead you to the dark lord."

She stamped her foot. "I _wanted _to go."

"Well I would never have allowed it if you were _my_ girlfriend."

"Well then it's a good job I'm not!"

Draco looked at her for a moment and left without saying anything.

Hermione stared at the door. For some reason she felt empty. She opened the balcony door the first frost of winter had come in the night and it was too cold to go out in just her nighty. She put on Draco's black lambswool jacket before picking up her tea and cigarettes and went out onto the balcony. The morning air was cold on bare legs. If anything it made her feel a bit more alive.

Taking off Ron's watch, she fiddle with the dial, trying to get a signal. "Hello?" she called. "Is there anyone there?"

A sleepy voice that sounded like Harry answered her. "Her...Hermione?" he muttered. "Whassa matter?"

"Harry I need to talk to Ginny." she began, expecting him to grouse and moan as he got out of bed, where he presumably was, to go and fetch her from the next room.

"Hang on- It's for you Gin."

"Hermione?" Ginny sounded as groggy as Harry.

"**Ginevra Weasley**!" she was scandalised. "what are you doing in bed with Harry? How on _earth_ did you convince Molly to let that happen? She never let me and Ron share a bed!" she thought of all the times they had been caught _not_ in a bed and blushed.

"Ah, you don't know yet do you!"

"Wow." said Harry's voice faintly. "Someone you haven't already told fives times."

"Shut up Potter. Hermione? We're getting married!"

"What? Oh wow guys! Congratulations. Harry you git you never said anything." said Hermione.

"It was a spur of the moment thing." he mumbled.

"When did he propose, Gin?" asked Hermione, guessing that Harry was already half asleep again.

"Wednesday."

"Oh." Hermione felt a little slighted that she had not been immediately informed.

"I wanted to contact you and let yo know." said Ginny.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, but you said you didn't want Draco to know you were in contact to they wouldn't let me risk it. Obviously _I_ was all for risking it-"

"Obviously" muttered Harry in the background.

"But Remus made me swear I wouldn't. Anyway I'm sure you didn't call to ask me about all this."

"Well... not really no." conceded Hermione. "Could we talk a bit more privately?"

"Hold on, I'll go outside. Harry get off me."

Hermione blushed, she had been saying those sorts of things to entirely the _wrong_ wizard recently. After some scuffling noises and one or two large bangs, Hermione heard the sound of Ginny descending the stairs at a run. "So what's the problem?" she asked.

"Malfoy."

"Well it was hardly going to be Goyle."

"He's... acting very strangely towards me." Hermione said tentatively.

"What kind of strange?"

"Well..."

"Is he being nice to you?"

"I suppose. Not really, but we get on quite well actually. Except when he's being a brat, which is often."

"He's quite funny isn't he?" agreed Ginny.

"I didn't think you'd spoken to him."

"Er...."

"Ginny?"

"Well, we sort of dated for a while I suppose.

Hermione was horrified but she fought back her indignation, and a feeling not exactly quite unlike jealousy, and pushed on.

"Ok... Look Gin, I need your advice."

"Fire away."

"We were arguing this morning-"

"Well that doesn't sound that strange."

"And he told me," Hermione continued, "That if I was _his_ girlfriend, he would never have let me go on the mission."

"What?"

"And I said it was a good thing I wasn't then."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing, he just glared at me and left."

"Ginny was silent for a moment. "Well that doesn't sound too strange."

"I suppose not... it's just the way he's been acting. Little things really. He bought me some clothes-"

"What?" Ginny sounded more shocked than Hermione would have expected. Not shocked actually... she sounded almost stern actually.

"He bought me some clothes?"

Ginny muttered obscenities under her breath. "Does he know about Ron?" she asked at last.

"Yes. I think that's sort of _encouraging_ him."

"Tell me what else has happened."

"Ok... Well, Ginny?" Hermione regretted not taking this problem to someone a little less involved. But Lavender would have told _everyone_, Luna would have no doubt told her something about Nargles and she doubted anyone else would have given her as sound advice as Ginny would.

"Don't worry. I wont tell Ron or Harry. It would break the unwritten laws of the sisterhood."

Hermione decided not ask. "What Malfoy told Ron... it was sort of true."

"Merlin's sneakoscope!" gasped Ginny. " What happened?"

"Well, we were fighting-"

"As ever."

"Yes. And he started kissing me to stop me laughing at this really awful book of his."

"He _kissed_ you!"

"Yes." said Hermione matter-of-factly "But when I pushed him off he got really angry and said it was no different to when I kissed _him_ in the Ministry."

"You.... What?" Hermione ignored her.

"And I said that was only because I didn't want to die."

"And how did he take that?"

"He pushed me into the sofa and kissed me again." Hermione sounded a little dejected.

"...Sounds like him."

"Yes...Then he sat up and he made me tell him _everything_."

"_Everything?_"

"He thinks so anyway. But I didn't tell him about Snape or his mother."

"And... he still trusts you?"

"I thinks so. That's when we fell asleep together on the sofa." Hermione thought about it for a moment. "And he's actually quite excited about breaking the rest of the prisoners out of the ministry. He wrote me a note yesterday signed: Draco 'man-on-the-inside' Malfoy."

Hermione sat down at the ironwork table, the seat was freezing. Her breath froze in front of her.

"Hermione," said Ginny seriously, "I think you need to come home."

"I can't. Malfoy and I need to get the prisoners in the Ministry out. There's _ten_ of them Gin."

"Oh Merlin... Well listen, do you want me to come there?"

Hermione definately did _not_ want that.

"Erm... no...."

"Hermione." said Ginny grimly, "why not?"

The way she asked it was almost as though she knew the reason. And also that Hermione would deny it.

"If you come here too he would be less inclined to get the prisoners out."

Ginny huffed. "Yeah, I s'pose. But... Hermione are you sure the rescue mission is the only reason?"

"Of course it is Gin!" Hermione was sure of that at least. "He's being weird because he's deluded. Mostly by me. He thinks his mother is dead and that I am the only person who cares about him. I'm not surprised he's getting a little clingy. I would be too in his position."

Ginny did not reply for a long while.

"He is not a nice man, Hermione." she said at last. "Not evil...but definitely not nice. Morning Mum."

"Oh, Hello Molly." called Hermione.

A warm but crackled response met her ears. "I'll speak to you soon Hermione." said Ginny. "It looks like breakfast is ready. Just remember what I said, alright?"

"Oh.... Oh ok. Bye then Gin."

"Bye." she answered and the watch went dead.

She stared at her mug of cold tea and thought everyone clamouring around the breakfast table back at Shell Cottage. She wanted to go home.


	23. Lost

_She wanted to go home._

Malfoy had quite a productive day at the Ministry. He found he had completed his usual work-load by eleven. His motivational problem seemed to have been solved. at eleven-fifteen he knocked on Yaxleys office door.

There were two thin men working in the office. Both of whom looked at Draco's proud expression and easy grace with distaste. They were probably wondering why he looked so relaxed. Draco _never_ looked relaxed. He always looked tired, hunched up and malnourished, although today he practically shone with lazy ease.

"Is Yaxley not here?" he asked the nearest man. A pair of dark and suspicious eyes glared up at him.

"No."

"Would it be too much trouble for you to tell me when he is expected back?"

"Later."

"I see." Draco looked over at the large desk at the back of the room. Starting towards it he asked, "Did he leave the keys for me?"

"What keys might they be." said the second thin wizard, getting up to block Draco's path.

"Those one's." Draco pointed his wand at the desk. He quickly hexed the back of his opponents head.

"I... what? I can't see any?" muttered the confounded wizard.

"I'll just have a quick look. Why are you two not there yet?"

"Where?" asked the first wizard, looking up from his desk. Draco pretended to point at the door behind his head with his wand and confounded him.

"The Atrium of course! Everyone's there."

"Oh... I... we must have forgot...come on Scrip. We've got to go to the er..."

"Atrium." prompted Draco.

The wizard called Scrip followed the first Wizard out of them room.

'Well that was alarmingly easy.' thought Draco, as he shut the door and returned to Yaxley's desk. 'I'm glad I'm not on their side any more. Idiots."

He would have to obliviate the two wizards later.

He rummaged through the desk drawers not really knowing what he was looking for. He found several pink MR Registration slips, which he burnt. Other than that there were a few ledgers, filled with useless information. He continued his searching.

Mostly, he just found charts and targets. Meaningless to Draco. He was about to give up, and leave in search of the witnesses, when he found a pile of access permission forms. These would give him free license to roam the Ministry, - or most of it- at his leisure! Resisting the urge to owl Hermione with his good news, he went in search of Yaxley's hexed henchman.

* * *

While Draco was flexing his Slytherin charms, Hermione had decided to take a walk. With nothing else suitable for Muggle London, she was forced to wear the white patterned Dress he had thought so suitable. She did not _want_ to wear it but if it was that or more of his clothes, she'd rather the dress. She would be wearing his coat over it anyway.

It was windy outside. She was glad she had opted to wear Draco's black lambswool jacket because she would have frozen had she not. She only wished it was longer. The wide skirts of her dress blew up in the wind as though gravity had reversed. Fortunately she had worn Luna's tough muggle trousers instead of another pair of witches tights. It seemed that all the pairs of tights Malkin had sold to Draco _did_ something; 'Spangled' or 'Lengthened' or even 'Whistled'! They were none of them suitable for muggle inspection.

Pulling her transfigured tea cosy down further over her tangled hair, she set off. not really sure of where she was going, or even the proper name of 'Malfoy Towers', which Draco apparently did not know either, she was careful to keep track of her movements. She had already decided that if she got really lost, she'd just have to pretend her 'cousins' building or something.

Not having any money, her choice of activities was fairly small. She decided to explore the area, being naturally curious. It would probably be to her benefit, it she knew the streets around them a little better. It never hurt to have an escape plan handy. Or to know where the supermarket was.

But Hermione found something better than both. She wondered how she did it really, it was almost as though she could smell the dust and paper from a mile away. She found the Manor Park Library. She also discovered they were, in fact, living in Ilford, not Kensington. Draco had either lied to her for some unfathomable reason or he too had been confused by being so near "_Kensington _Gardens". She wasn't sure which was worse.

* * *

"Hermione? I'm home." called Draco. When she didn't answer, he looked for her in her room. She was not there. She was not in her bathroom either. With a vague hope of finding her sprawled invitingly and nakedly on his bed, he even looked in his room. She was not on the balcony either.

Malfoy sat numbly on the sofa. She had left him.

He felt empty. What had he done to make her leave? Was it the watch thing? He thought about how she had looked in his dark blue jumper, sleeping soundly on the sofa while he told her bloody boyfriend where to get off.

When she was around, he felt like everything was a game. That they were only pretending to be grown-ups. Now the grim reality of what his life was without her overtook him. Without her, there would be no Grand Rescue, as he would have nowhere to go once he was through. Without her he would have to carry on working at the ministry.

Without her he was alone.

* * *

Hermione, who had become hopelessly lost, was helped home by a elderly woman who lived above Draco's flat on the fourth floor. The woman had recognised her voice, having heard it from her balcony, she explained.

"I like to go out there with George." the old muggle woman told her.

"George? Is that your husband?"

"Dear me know, he died years ago."

"Oh ...I'm sorry."

"Never mind dear." replied the old woman kindly. "George is my tortoise. Had him since I was eleven."

"Oh I see!"

"And what about you? Do you have a husband?"

"Oh, no." said Hermione airily. "Ron and I aren't married yet."

"Ron? I thought your boyfriends name was 'Damo'."

"Draco? No... I'm just staying with him for a while."

"He's a good looking young man." the old woman looked at her shyly. "If I were a couple of decades younger... are you sure you don't like him?"

Hermione laughed. "No, no. We're definitely just friends."

"Oh," the old lady dropped her voice to a theatrical whisper. "Is he... "

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Is he what?"

"A Gay gentleman?"

Hermione laughed. "I don't think so. He's not told _me_ if he is."

The old woman sighed. "That's a shame."

"Oh?"

"Yes, the milkman is quite taken with him. It will break his heart when he hears."

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. She couldn't wait to tell Draco he had an admirer. Two admirers if you counted the old lady.

* * *

Hermione knocked on the front door. It was probably just as well she had gotten lost, as she had no front door key anyway.

"Draco?" she called through the letter box, when there was no reply. "It's me. I don't have a key, come and let me in."

"Hermione!" She heard Draco shout from inside the flat. He flung open the door and grabbed her. He had never hugged anybody so tightly in his life.

"I thought you'd gone!" he hissed. "Don't ever, _ever_ do that again!"

"Draco- I can't- Breathe." He loosened his grip a fraction. "Let go."

"No." he said stubbornly. "You'll just run off again."

"I've only just come home! Let go of me." But Draco was not really listening. He was kissing any bit of her face he could reach. Hermione squealed as he leant down and hooked an arm behind her knees; picking her up.

"No." he answered, slamming the door behind him as he carried her inside.


	24. Curry

_"No." he answered, slamming the door behind him as he carried her inside._

"Draco put me _down_." Hermione told him crossly, kicking her heels wildly and raining blows upon him. He smiled obliviously and crossed the sitting room to his bedroom door. Hermione began to struggle all the more, hitting him as hard as she could. "Just what do you think you are doing?" she asked him.

Draco laughed at her terror, as he threw her onto his bed . "Calm down. I just want to-"

"What!" squeaked Hermione, blushing as she tried to sit up on his bed. He pushed her back into the pillows and lay down with her.

"I just want to look at you." he said, leaning over her petrified form and gazing at her... almost _lovingly_. Hermione lay still, all the while snaking a hand towards her pocket for her wand. It was in the other pocket; the one Draco was practically lying on. She groaned.

"What?" he asked her, brushing an errant strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Nothing." She crinkled her nose at him discouragingly, "Are you going to be long?"

"Hours." he said, tracing her jawline with his thumb. He hummed appreciatively. "Possibly all night. I'd get comfortable if I were you."

"This is the most _un_comfortable situation I have ever been in." she lied crossly.

She relaxed against the pillows to think for a moment. "Draco, what was the first-"

"No, Jane. I am not going to say it." As though shaken from his reveries, he focused his eyes on her face properly. "You'll spoil the mood."

"_Mood_!" She rolled her eyes. "What mood? This is _weird_ and I don't like it. Let me get up."

"No."

"How can I be sure you aren't some Deatheater, trying to keep me talking until back-up arrives? How do I know my Malfoy isn't lying dead in the bathroom?"

"_Your Malfoy_?"

"You know what I mean."

"Mmmmm, I hope so." he said, his eyes slipping out of focus again as he ran a pale finger over her mouth. "Fine. _Oi__ Longbottom, I've found your toad._ Are you happy now?"

"Ask me something."

"What are you making?" asked Draco automatically.

"Well nothing at the moment, you wont let me go."

"No. I wont. Not ever. And it's all your own fault for running off like that." He answered, slipping an arm under her and pulling her close to him.

"I did _not_ 'run off' I went for a walk." muttered Hermione as she snuggled into the warmth of his body, seeking a more comfortable position. She butted her head into his shoulder; feeling it relax she laid her head in the comfortable hollow beside his neck. He still felt very wasted and wiry.

"Promise you will never leave me." Draco murmured sleepily.

"Draco... I will have to go eventually."

"Why?"

"Because... I ..."

"You see!" he struggled back up to look at her properly, pushing her out of the cosy warmth. "You can't even think of a reason."

"I want to go back to Ron."

Draco was furious. "What for!" he shouted. Hermione flinched at the noise and he lowered his voice a fraction. "He doesn't need you; _I_ _do_."

"I'm not just going to go wherever I'm needed! What about my happiness? You can't have everything only because think you need it- or because you want it."

"I'd give you whatever _you_ wanted_." _insisted Draco. "I'd _make_ you happy."

"You make it sound like a threat! Draco, you can't give me what I want. There are some things money can't buy."

"Well that's all you'll ever get from Weasley."

"Money can't buy _me_."

"I don't want to _buy_ you Hermione." He said, anger rising in his cheeks. It would be so much easier if he could. "I just don't want to give you _back_."

"Why are you so obsessed?" she asked suddenly. "Why do you want me so badly?"

"I don't want you. I've already _got_ you."

"What do you see us doing in a year's time?"

Draco thought about it. "A year exactly?" she nodded. "Well, right now we'd be back at the manor."

"Malfoy Manor?"

He nodded

"Doing what?" she asked

"Well I don't know, what would you _like_ to be doing?"

"Leaving you to go back to Ron." Draco glared. "Fine. Um... reading more of those hilarious books about Merlic and his 'mighty wand of willow'. Laughing at you a lot and making you sorry you ever freed your house elves for me because you will be cooking the supper."

"Of all the things in the world, that is what you would most like to be doing?"

"With you? Yes." Smiling in triumph she asked him, "Why? Would you not enjoy that?"

"I'd be happy to compromise." She raised her eyebrows. "I'll free the house elves if _you_ promise to do the cooking."

"I wont."

"Even so," he smiled dreamily, "I'd have you sharing my bed to make up for it."

"I wouldn't share you bed. I'd have a separate room."

"No, you wouldn't." he said sternly. "You'd sleep in my bed every night. And only after I'd had my wicked way with you at least twice." Hermione blushed at the very idea. "... Would you like an example?" he purred into her ear.

"No, Draco I think you've made you point quite clearly." she paused. An idea occurred to her. "Although I don't know how you'd hope to do it twice, _ever_."

"Does Weasley not have much stamina? Don't worry, not all wizards are like that."

"...You don't know how muggles have sex, do you Malfoy?"

"Is.... Isn't it the same?"

Hermione stared at him gravely and shook her head. "It is extremely painful." she explained, trying not to laugh. "And only ever done for procreation. You see Draco, a muggle womans vagina is barbed, to hold the penis in place."

"...But.... How would you... Why.. " Draco looked very ill. "But _you're_ a witch... so it's... not-"

"Draco, I'm afraid it is."

"Well.... I don't care anyway." he told her stubbornly and Hermione stared at him, finally losing her hold on her laughter. "What?" he asked her.

"I'm teasing you, you daft git!"

Draco growled at her and pushed her into the pillows, kissing her neck.

"No." he said roughly. "No, it's no good. I don't know what to believe. You'll just have to let me have a look."

Hermione laughed delightedly as Draco tried gently to pull up her Slytherin dress. "Stop it you idiot!"

They were fighting playfully, laughing at each other and trading soft blows and pushes, when Ron's watch suddenly crackled into life.

"Hermione?" called Molly Weasley's voice.

Like guilty children, they stopped laughing instantly. "Oh!" Hermione tried to sound airy. "Molly, how nice to hear from you."

"I'm afraid you might not feel that way in a moment." said Molly crossly. "Ronald, has something he needs to tell you."

"I can't believe you're doing this!" cried out Ron's voice in the background. "You're supposed to be my _mother_!"

"I am." screeched Molly, making Hermione and Draco jump. Her voice had been so gentle beforehand, if a little overwrought. "And I didn't bring you up to do this sort of thing! Now tell her what you did or I will do it for you."

Draco looked at Hermione, she was staring at the watch like it was something that might bite her. Like she already knew what was coming.

"It's not like I've done anything she hasn't!" Ron was shouting. "And at least it wasn't some Deatheater scum like Malfoy!"

"I do not believe Hermione would do something like that. You however, I caught with your pants down. Literally."

Hermione let out a choked sob, "Ron?" she said. "Ron how _could _you!"

"How could you sleep with a Deatheater!"

"I DIDN'T" screamed Hermione. Draco took her hand and pulled off the watch, breaking the clasp.

"Weasley? Are you actually that stupid? I lied."

"Wh- What?" Ron stammered.

"Yes. I lied to you."

"No.... no, oh God."

"Who was it?" asked Hermione in a small voice.

"Hermione... I-"

"I don't think it _was_ Hermione Weasel." sneered Draco. "I think that's rather the point."

"Look just fuck off Malfoy!" shouted Ron. "This is all you fault to begin with!"

"Ronald!" cried Molly. "_You_ are the one who has been dipping his wand where he shouldn't!"

"WHO?" Hermione asked again. Ron didn't answer. "_WHO_!"

"Lavender."

"I _knew _it." shrieked Hermione. "I fucking knew it. Well I hope it was worth it Ron. I really do." Forcing herself to lower her voice she said, "Thank you for telling me Molly." She twisted the dial and the watch fell silent. Neither of them spoke for a long time.

Draco watched the tears falling down Hermione's soft cheeks. "I'm not sorry." he said softly. Hermione laughed mirthlessly. "I'm not."

"Please just go away Malfoy."

"Why can't I stay?"

"Because-" Hermione bit out through gritted teeth. "I don't want to see you."

"Well I don't want to leave you."

Hermione collapsed into the pillows. They felt soft and cool. She closed her eyes. "Draco, there is a muggle take away about twenty minutes down the road."

"So?"

"I am going to give you a list and you are going to go there and buy the things on it."

"No, I'm going to stay here." He answered casually, lying down next to her to stroke her wet cheeks. Hermione forced herself away from him, she sat up and walked over to his writing table.

"I'm not cooking tonight." she explained.

"What's that got to do with a take away?"

"Do you ... Draco? What is a take away?"

"Some sort of brothel?"

She stared at him.

"...No. It's a restaurant that also let you order food to take home with you, instead of eating it there."

"Oh." said Draco. "I thought..."

"That I was sending you to a brothel? _With a list_! You have really got something very wrong with you Draco. It's almost as though you were meant to starve." said Hermione, not looking up from the parchment . Once she was finished she handed it to him packed him off through the front door, having first made sure he had muggle money.

"I'm not an idiot." he snapped. "I do know I need ounces- Pounds! I meant pounds." Hermione laughed a little. "Yes_, _well. You're lucky the Malfoy fortune is able to stand up to this. The Galleon has gone through the floor."

"Don't be so dramatic. I know the exchange rate is bad but most magical people could probably still afford a take-away. Get going."

Draco sucked his breath through his teeth and shook his head. "I don't know Jane, it'll be a lean Christmas for us if we go throwing our money away now."

"I am not spending Christmas with-" she shook her head, "just go."

With Draco gone, the full weight of what had happened hit her like a train. She walked back to his room without thinking, and sat down on the chaise longue. She stared at the walls. How could this have happened? Why had she ever agreed to come on this stupid mission. Why hadn't she let Ginny go? Ginny had history with Draco after all; she would have been home in time for tea! Unless their affair had ended messily. Hermione should have asked about that.

The room was cold or perhaps it was just her, regardless she got into Draco's bed.

'It must be the shock.' she thought sleepily.

_*******_

Hermione woke up to find Draco lying behind her, stroking her neck. The smell of rice and almonds told her he had succeeded in his task. "Wake up." he told her, I'm going to get some plates, we can eat in here."

"Curry in bed?" asked a sleepy voice. "God how squalid. I'm heartbroken Draco but I am not an invalid. Set the table and I'll be out in a minute."

"...will you promise to come back?"

"Where?"

"To my bed."

"No."

"Well why are you in it now?"

"Go and set the table."

Muttering, Draco left. Hermione sat up. Why _had_ she gotten into his bed? To punish Ron she supposed, in a roundabout way. She yawned and and made her way to the kitchen, where Draco was putting plates and cutlery on the table. She looked at the brown paper bag of take away, stained with grease at the bottom.

"Did you get everything?" she asked him.

"Yes. Sag Aloo, Pilau rice, Chicken tikka Massala, Prawn Vindaloo and a Naan."

"Good. The Massala is the orange one, that's for me, the Vindaloo is the red one and that's for you."

"Why do I have to have that one?"

"Because I said so." snapped Hermione, as he put the foil tray of sweet smelling curry in front of her. Helping herself to rice and the potato dish, she smiled evilly to herself. She was really going to enjoy this.

She picked up her knife and fork and looked up just in time to see Draco put a mouthful of rice, covered in red sauce, and a shrivelled prawn into his mouth. He spat it out onto his plate with a yelp and ran to the sink, where he guzzled water straight from the tap.

"What the fucking hell is that!" he shrieked, "It's burning! It wont stop burning!"

"I know." answered Hermione calmly, ripping off a piece of naan bread.

"Why did you make me get that? I can't eat that!"

"Because I want to watch you eat it." Draco gaped at her. "_All_ of it."

"What? Why?"

"Because you have ruined _everything_." she shouted. "Now-" she pointed to his chair. "Sit down, shut up and _eat it_."

Malfoy stared at her. Her face was murderous. He sat back down at the table and picked up his fork. Hermione watched with grim satisfaction as he put another forkful of incredibly spicy curry into his mouth. He was more braced for the pain that time, but his eyes watered and an alien red hue appeared on his pallid cheeks. He looked at her with pleading eyes.

"All of it." she repeated.

It took him an hour to finish the entire curry. His eyes and nose streamed, while beads of sweat formed on his reddened brow. Hermione lit a cigarette, not bothering to go outside, as she watched. He had lied to Ron and Ron had betrayed her as a result. Therefore Draco had betrayed her. Well... he hadn't _lied_ as such... but he certainly double-crossed her.

'It's just as bad as if I had found _Draco _in bed with Lavender!' she thought, the very idea maing er even angrier. 'No... wait... that doesn't make any sense. It's as bad as if... Well, it's just as much his fault anyway. Even if it was Ron who actually did.... it. The bastard. I hate him. I hate his stupid Weasel face. I mean ferret face . Well I hate both of them anyway."

"Are you finished yet Malfoy?"

He coughed, "Yes." his voice was hoarse. She softened.

"Have a glass of milk. The fat absorbs the chilli." she told him, her voice still hard. "I'm going to bed."

Draco did not respond, he had his back to her and was downing milk straight from the bottle.

_"_Oh and I've invited the muggle woman from upstairs to supper tomorow." Draco choked so hard that milk hit the glass of the window. "Goodnight."


	25. Supper with a muggle

_"Oh and I've invited a muggle to supper tomorrow." Draco choked so hard that milk hit the glass of the window. "Goodnight."_

When Draco finally stopped trying to break her door down, which was at about three am, Hermione got into bed and pulled the pillows over her head. The walls were thick but her pride was such that she would not take any chances of Draco hearing her cry. It had been bad enough that Harry had ever heard her cry over Ron. She should have known when Ron left them that he was not good enough for her. She remembered when she found his book on 'How to charm witches'. Was it not quite a glaring clue, that he would need such a book? She had laughed when she read it, saying that some of this things in it were actually painfully obvious. Why had it not occurred to her _then_ that it had not really been him she liked, but rather a book.

'How fitting.' she thought miserably.

But she had always loved Ron, even before his stupid brothers handed him the manual. She had loved him and Harry for years. Hermione thought hard; perhaps she had been confused by that. Perhaps what she felt was some sort of mix of Lust and Friendship.

'But... that's what true love _should_ be like. Shouldn't it? Shouldn't your lover be your best-friend too?'

Apparently not.

* * *

Hermione eventually wore herself out with her tears and fell into a deep and miserable sleep when the first light began to appear through the sheer curtains. She did not wake until lunchtime.

When she eventually got out of bed, which took quite a large force of will, she removed the wards from her bedroom door and padded into the kitchen. She had a mind to spend the afternoon in bed, reading Draco's book about Merlic and eating 'Pygmy Puffs!' from the box. However, Draco's usual morning note was accompanied by a large pile of pink "Access Permission Slips". She looked at his note in the hope of some sort of explanation.

_Hermione_.  
_I am still furious.  
DM._

Well that didn't exactly tell her anything she didn't already know. She looked at the clock, it was already half past two. Forcing her betrayal to the very bottom of her mind, Hermione went back to her bedroom to get dressed.

* * *

Meanwhile, Draco was making great headway at the Ministry. There was uproar over the missing register, which was the only complete record of every muggleborn in Britain. This allowed Draco the opportunity to walk around almost any part of the building, including the cells, as long as he kept a stern and stressed looking expression nobody bothered to question why he was there; people were rushing all over the place anyway. Armed with a clipboard and the glamoured mask, Draco walked up and down the cells, questioning the guards about the various wards.

"And what is the procedure here, in the event of a fire?"

The guard looked at him blankly. "Put it out?"

"Good God man! No. _Get the prisoners to safety_, they have important information! Why do you think they are not in Azkaban?"

"Errrr..."

"In the event of Fire, you are supposed to stun them and open the cells. Then they will be levitated our of harms way."

"Oh." said the guard, very relieved 'Yaxley' had come down to explain everything to him. "I'm the one who stuns them?"

"Well, usually, yes. But since the breach of security you are to await Draco Malfoy or his assistant."

"Who's his assistant?"

"I can't recall her name.... Jane or something. You'll know her when you see her. Very pretty little piece of skirt that one. I've a mind to try and hire her for myself actually... But keep that under your hat man."

The guard grinned and nodded enthusiastically.

"Right, now what hexes are on these doors, _exactly_..."

* * *

Draco was tempted to spend the evening at the Leaky Cauldron but decided in the end to take the Hippogriff by the wings and go home to Hermione... and her muggle guest. He didn't like to be away from Hermione for too long anyway.

When he reached the front door, he heard Hermione laughing with someone. If Draco didn't know better he'd have sworn the other voice was that mad old muggle from the fourth floor, the one that always seemed to be extolling the virtues of the milkman.

He fumbled with the lock. Turning the key back and forwards, trying to push it upwards to just the right degree. It took about a minute.

"Hermione? I'm home." he called. The sound of laughter faded, and Hermione's face appeared at the balcony door.

"Hello Draco." turning back to her guest she said, "I'll just be a moment Ethel."

Closing the door behind her gently Hermione pulled a very serious face.

"First thing you said to me?" she demanded.

"Oi Longbottom, I've found your toad." answered Draco a little cruelly. "What are you making, other than my life a misery."

Hermione's lip curled. "_Quiche_."

"I don't _like_ Quiche."

"I know." said Hermione, "Now give me your wand."

"No!"

"Draco, we have guests. Give me your wand."

"Give me _your_ wand."

Hermione huffed. "Fine, but if I see it at all this evening I'll shut you out on the balcony until the morning. Go get changed, you look like a priest."

Draco stormed out of the kitchen and into his bedroom, where he tugged off his blue robes and dressed himself in jeans and a bottle green jumper.

"I think I should apologise for him in advance." Hermione told their guest. "He's not very good with company at the best of times and I think he's having quite a hard time at work at the moment. We've had a bit of a fight as well actually."

Ethel laughed. "Yes... I heard quite a lot of shouting late last night."

"Oh gosh I'm so sorry, I didn't realise anyone could hear!"

"Not to worry, I tend to stay up quite late anyway. May I ask what it was about?"

"Draco... told my boyfr- my _ex-_boyfriend something he shouldn't and... we've broken up as a result."

"Oh dear."

"Yes. I was fairly angry with him."

"Was? Are you no longer angry?"

"... not really. Draco wasn't exactly lying to Ron."

"I see." Ethel looked at her thoughtfully for a moment and said, "Draco doesn't look like a man you could stay angry with for long."

"Mmmmm... Between you and me," began Hermione, before she was interrupted by the opening of the balcony door. "Oh, hello Draco."

"Hello." said Ethel brightly.

"Draco, this is Ethel, she helped me home last night when I got lost."

"Yes. We've met once or twice on the stairs. I believe we discussed the milkman." said Draco, Hermione laughed. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. Aren't you going to sit down?" Draco complied, taking the seat between the two women, where he would have a good view of Hermione.

"Ethel and I were discussing that Peter Pan statue that you and I saw."

"Oh?

"I was telling Hermione JM Barry put it up secretly overnight. It's supposed to be the spot Peter landed on when he first arrived in London."

"You do know Peter Pan isn't real."

"Draco!" Hermione was appalled, but Ethel seemed to find his behaviour quite amusing.

"Hermione said you didn't actually know who Peter Pan _was until_ Sunday my boy. Those in glass houses." she retorted with a smile.

"What about them?"

"...They ... they shouldn't throw stones..." Ethel told him. "Have you never heard that expression before?"

"Draco grew up abroad." Hermione told her quickly. "There seem to be quite a few things he doesn't know about."

"Hmmph." said Draco.

Ethel nodded, "I see." she said. "My own husband grew up in Africa. It was always a source of amusement whenever he tried to do something perfectly usual to you or I, but which he had never really had any experience in."

Despite himself, Draco's mouth twisted into a small smile at the sight of Hermione's. "You will have to tell us a bit more about that." she said. "But I think supper will be ready by now. Let's go inside."

Draco did not move as the two ladies rose from their seats. Hermione looked at him expectantly. "Come on Malfoy."

"I don't like quiche."

"I didn't _really_ make quiche you twit, come inside."

Draco followed after her and sat down at the table, resisting the urge to sit next to Hermione's seat.

"So where is your husband tonight?" asked Draco.

"Oh, he passed away a few years ago." Ethel told him. "During a war."

"Oh." said Draco, without a hint of sympathy. "Which one?"

"Pardon?"

"_Which _war?" he repeated. Ethel made no reply other than to look slightly confused. Giving up the line of questioning- the old woman was clearly senile- he changed tack. "Has my charming Hermione told you what she did to me on Sunday?"

"I'm sure Ethel doesn't really want to hear about it Draco." said Hermione. As she put a plate of goulash in front of him. He scowled at her.

"Yes, well, I didn't really want to get harrassed in the park!"

"Harrassed? What happened? Oh this is delicious Hermione!"

"Better than quiche anyway." Hermione glared. "She 'forgot' to warn me about that silence thing you mugl -ahem _must_ do every year. The Poppy thing."

"I see... were you not...quiet?" Ethel tried very hard not to smile.

"No." said Draco crossly. "I was running after her and shouting."

"Well, at least you made a thorough job of it." said Ethel.

"Quite a respectable looking man nearly beat him up." giggled Hermione. "Oh Draco, you know I didn't mean for that to happen. I said I was sorry."

Draco shrugged. Ethel watched the pair of them closely. Despite her current loneliness, she had always enjoyed being around people. She found them fascinating. She liked to try and unravel what was going on between them.

It was obvious that the pale young man was very taken with Hermione. He stared at her most of the time, almost as though he were angry with her. Though Ethel suspected that might in part be true, she could not miss the way his mouth twisted contentedly whenever Hermione laughed. Ethel wondered if the young woman noticed, if she found it disconcerting. Most girls would shrink under his steely gaze, but she seemed to hold up to it well. If anything she simply ignored it. She could not help but wonder how the two of the became friends, or why Hermione was currently staying with him. Why would she put herself in the path of a man so keen on her, if she was already seeing somebody else? Or stay with him after he had been partly to blame for them then breaking it off.

"So, how did you two become friends?" asked Ethel.

"We went to school together." answered Hermione.

"Ah. it's so nice to have old friends isn't it?"

"We weren't friends at school."

"Well, no-" interrupted Draco, "But only because... I mean you were always with _Potter_. And... the other thing."

Ethel restrained herself from asking more about the 'other thing'. Some things people needed to tell you in their own time. "Was Potter your boyfriend?" she asked Hermione.

"No, Harry was just a friend of mine. He's getting married to Ron's sister now-

"You didn't tell me that!" said Draco.

"You didn't tell _me_ you to used to um... to see each other."

"You didn't ask."

"Well nor did you."

"Bloody Potter. He always get everything he wants." muttered Draco into his wine.

"So do you." she pointed out. "well... you used to anyway. And you probably will again when the war's over."

"War?" asked Ethel.

"Oh.... this work problem of his. It's very nasty at the moment. That's why I've come to stay for a while, to look after him while he tries to sort it out."

This confused Ethel even more. "To look after him?" she asked. Perhaps the man was ill. He was certainly gaunt. "Does he need it?"

"No." said Draco. "She just likes to boss people around."

"Don't we all." said Ethel.

Draco frowned at her.

"So, if you were not friends at school, which cannot have been that long ago by the looks of you, how did you become so?"

"Hermione was very kind to me when my mother died."

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realise. When did it happen?"

"Tuesday." he answered.

"Oh... and you became friends after that... and she moved in?"

Draco shrugged and stared at his plate.

"Pudding I think." said Hemione after a pause.

Ethel helped Hermione to clear the table.

_"Oh no, don't worry. I can manage."_

_"Come now my dear, you must allow me to help a little."_

"Draco, how much do you want?" asked Hermione, having first helped their guest to a generously sized bowlful of Rhubarb crumble.

"I don't really want any." he said. "I don't really like sweet things."

"Oh... you _used_ to." said Hermione reproachfully. "not a week went by at school when your owl didn't come in weighed down by half a pound of toffee."

"His... _owl_?"

Hermione stuttered, but Draco interrupted her.

"It's what we called the younger ones." he said. smoothly. "I used to make one from my school house fetch my letters for me."

"I can imagine you being quite a terror at school Draco. Always were you shouldn't be and always an excuse."

"That was Potter."

"Ah. What were you like then?"

"He was a terrible bully." said Hermione.

"Well you were a shrill know-it-all!" said Draco not meeting her eyes.

"I think everybody wishes the had done things differently at school." said Ethel. "_I_ wish I had not been particularly cruel to my teachers. Unfortunately I was quite a tear-away myself, we _all_ were. Teachers used to draw lots to not teach our class."

Hermione laughed. "But you're so good-tempered!"

"Ah, we all grow into ourselves. I'm sure Draco is no longer a bully just as you are far from being a 'shrill know-it-all'."

Hermione was silent.

"You see." said Draco. "Even the muggle likes me."

"What did you just call me young man?"

"Oh fuck it."

* * *

"I think I should be getting going." said Ethel. "I've left George alone for far too long. He'll be missing me. Or at least I would like to _think_ he has been missing me."

"Oh." said Hermione. "Well it was lovely to see you. You should pop by again sometime. I don't really know anybody here. It would be so nice to see a friendly face."

Ethel smiled from ear to ear. " I've had a lovely evening... er- gosh. Do you know, I can't remember a thing about this evening."

"You... can't?"

"...No."

"We had goulash, remember? Draco told you that story about playing cricket for his school team."

"Oh... oh yes- of course. Now I remember. A little too much wine perhaps."

"...Would you like me to see you upstairs?"

***

All in all, thought Draco, it had not been as bad as he had been expecting. The old woman didn't talk much. She just seemed to listen. Very carefully. When she did talk it was usually to say something witty. He actually quite liked her, for a muggle at least. Although he had once or twice remembered what Hermione had told him about muggle women being... _barbed, _and was barely able to repress a laugh or a shudder.

Hermione returned with a very serious look on her face. "Draco." she said sternly.

"What?" he asked. "What did I do?"

"Not only," began Hermione, as she collapsed on the sofa next to him, "Not _only _did you call her a muggle four or five times, _**accio**_ a bottle of wine in front of her _and_ cheat at whist -which by the way I find seriously disturbing-"

"Why?"

"Because for someone who had never even heard of it, you cheated very well."

"That's not disturbing."

"It bloody well is. It's not natural for someone to be so good at deceiving people. Anyway! Not only did you do all of these things-"

"I modified her memory, stop worrying about it. She thinks she had a wonderful time with the charming young couple from downstairs." Draco stretched out on the sofa and put his head in her lap. He was very quickly ejected.

"Draco she can barely remember a bloody thing and we are _not_ a couple!"

"I found something while I was poking round in her head by the way." he answered.

"What?" huffed Hermione.

"I found out which war her husband died in."

"Tell me what happened at work today." she answered.

Draco pouted and shifted to lie against the arm of the sofa, looking at her with sleepy and reproachful eyes.

"Don't look at me like that." She snapped. "What are those pink slips you left on the side?"

His face brightened. "Oh wait until you hear how clever I am."

"Tell me."

"There access permission slips-"

"I know that."

"They mean we can get into pretty much any part of the ministry. They are the Government equivalent of a note from your mother. Are you asleep?"

Hermione had put her own back to the opposite arm of the sofa to face him, and had closed her tired eyes. "No. I'm just tired. I didn't really sleep much last night."

"Nor did I. Do you want to go to bed? We can talk about this tomorrow."

Hermione pulled her eyes open and sat up straight. "No, I'm fine. I shouldn't be sleeping when there are so many people in those awful cells."

"Ah, my little Gryffindor; always so selfless."

"I am not _your_ Gryffindor." muttered Hermione. "Tell me what else you found out."

"The wards on the doors are actually pretty ineffectual. They seem to be relying on the security of the Ministry itself."

"How easy would it be for us to get passed the other security then?"

"Well, you and I managed to get out fairly easily last time. That put outer of yours is pretty powerful. They still have no idea how you escaped."

"Right. Well... how long before you and I can put whatever we come up with into action? What's that face for?"

"Nothing. The next few days."

"So soon? But Draco that's wonderful! Why do you look so miserable?"

He didn't answer. Hermione opened one eye and regarded him suspiciously. "Draco?"

"We'll have to go to your head-quarters."

Hermione yawned. "So?"

"I like things how they are now. Will you stop falling asleep? You're always bloody asleep!"

"I am not! You're just always awake."

"Come on, let's go get into bed. Then I'll finish telling you about my plan."

"I'm not sharing a bed with you."

"Merlin, I'm not going to do anything to you! I just don't want to have to try and wake you up once you've fallen asleep. It's too hard."

"If you'd stop berating me for being sleepy and just tell me the plan we could be done by now!" her eyes were still closed.

"...Fine. Well-"

Draco spoke to her in the most soothing voice he could manage.

* * *

Hermione awoke, hot but comfortable, in a pitch black room. She wasn't entirely sure where she was at first, until she felt a body next to her shift slightly. Last thing she remembered was Draco's voice murmuring as she fell asleep. The bastard had tricked her! She tried to sit up, to get away and back to the cool empty bed she had grown used to.

"Stop trying to escape." Draco muttered in her ear. His breath tickled. "It's comfortable."

Hermione had to admit she was indeed _very_ comfortable. Draco's body was much more inviting than 'Luna the Spooner's'. His scent filled her nose. It was such a familiar smell. She wondered how that could be.

"Draco, get off me."

"No!"

"My arms gone numb."

"We've all got problems."

Despite herself, Hermione laughed a little.


	26. Wards and more

_Despite herself, Hermione laughed a little._

"Is something funny Gryffindor?" asked Draco, as he rolled over slightly, pressing his wasted body into her more than was entirely proper.

"You." murmured Hermione, pushing him away and sitting up. Draco tried to pull her back down but she was too quick for him and was out of bed and sitting on the chaise longue on the other side of the room before he quite understood what she was doing. With a flick of his wand, Draco lit the lamp. He squinted at her in annoyance. She looked rumpled and bed headed. It was all he could do not to bound over and drag her back into the warmth of his bed.

"Why can't you just do as you're told?" he asked her.

Hermione ignored him. "I want to go _tomorrow._" she told him.

"What? _Why_? We don't have a proper plan; we aren't exactly going to be well rested and we both know it's going to be bloody awful for both of us at your head-quarters-"

"Draco, I've been in those cells, they are far worse than having to live with Ronald."

"I don't want to live with _any_ of them!"

"It wont be for long! Most of them will be gone as soon as we have an idea where you-know-who is. We are going tomorrow Draco."

"What about your muggle friend? Don't you think it would be a touch unkind to disappear just as she thinks she's got herself a friend at last."

"I'm sure she has plenty of friends Draco, she's hardly the sort of woman to-"

"I saw inside her head Hermione, when I was modifying her memory. She's fucking lonely."

"Oh... oh I didn't realise." Hermione felt awful. Why was everything so complicated? No matter what she did she was bound to hurt somebody. Leave tomorrow and Ethel would be alone. Leave later and the prisoners held in the Ministry would suffer, perhaps not even be _there_ any longer. And Draco was going to find out how everybody he thought cared about him had lied, so she could hardly come back to see Ethel, without the risk of seeing him too. Of course, she'd still come- she was too proud to let his displeasure prevent her.

"Draco... Know matter what we do, somebody is going to get hurt. We have to prioritise. The longer we're here; the longer people suffer at the hands of the Deatheaters. The longer we stay; the longer the prisoners suffer in those cells. I've decided. We leave in the morning."

Draco looked at her and thought for a moment. If they left... he'd never get her back. He got out of bed and went to sit next to her. "If a train was speeding towards-"

"What does this have to do with _anything_?"

"Just shut up and listen! If a train was speeding towards a group of children- say ten of them- playing of the train lines. And you could redirect it, just by pulling a lever, to a line that only one child was playing on. Would you do it?"

"...Yes." Hermione wasn't really listening. Draco was not wearing anything on his top half. And she had noticed something she had never seen before. For all Harry's suspicions in their sixth year at Hogworts... she had never really believed it. But there it was, contrasting sharply with the paleness of his skin. The mark. Draco was still talking.

"Wouldn't you then be the one to have murdered the one child? If you had done nothing then the ten children's' deaths would have had nothing to do with you. You see?"

"Malfoy-" Hermione said, in an unsure voice, but he kept on.

"_And_ why should that one child, who was playing on the safe track, have to die for the stupidity of the ten? Why should your muggle friend have to suffer because ten stupid idiots managed to get themselves caught! She shouldn't. And why should I have to live with all your bloody friends when-"

"BECAUSE HALF OF IT IS YOUR BLOODY FAULT!" screamed Hermione. "YOU let the deatheaters in; YOU got Dumbledore killed; YOU Draco, none of them. You're the fucking train driver!"

Draco stared at her but she was not looking at him. Her gaze was directed at the tattoo on his arm. He snapped his hand to it, hiding it from view. "Hermione I-"

"We are going in the morning Malfoy. I don't want to discuss it. I don't trust myself around you. Goodnight!"

Hermione slammed the door behind her and Draco, cold and more alone than he had been in weeks, sat in the half light of the lamp and stared at the ugly mark on his skin.

***

When they reached the Ministry the next morning, the atmosphere between the two had not improved. Draco awoke on the chaise lounge, having shunned the warmth of the empty bed. Stretching out his long, stiff limbs, he approached the kitchen where Hermione was clattering with pots and pans; readying breakfast- delicious smelling porridge.

"What are you doing?" he asked her sleepily, causing her to jump and hit her bushy head on the shelf of the cupboard she was rooting through.

"Ow!" she hissed. "Bugger. Why must you sneak up on people?"

"I was _not_ sneaking. Just because I don't announce my presence with a fanfare of clattering doesn't mean I sneak." Draco was in as bad a temper as he was any morning.

"You _are _a sneak." said Hermione under her breath, before adding a little louder, "There's coffee in the pot."

"Urgh. I hate coffee. Where's the tea?"

"No tea. We need the caffeine. I don't know about you but I didn't sleep much last night." she said, sitting down at the the table and and pouring herself a teacup full of the strong smelling coffee. Draco tried to not pay attention to how delicately she held the cup.

"Hermione... this is insane. We are going in cold. We have no real plan. All we have is a couple of access permission forms and a single guard that would admit the pair of us in a fire."

"I don't care. I don't want to leave them." said Hermione stubbornly. "And I don't want to stay _here_ any longer than is necessary."

She did not look at him properly. She spoke mostly to the sugar bowl or to the ceiling. Although- once or twice- Draco saw her eyes dart towards his arm. His heart sank; he had hoped- against hope- that he had been wrong the night before. But it was beyond doubt now. He clamped a hand over his sleeve, as though she could see through the threadbare material of his ministry robes.

"Look-" he said abruptly, "look... I... the mark... I couldn't-"

"I don't need to hear it Draco." interrupted Hermione in a strangled voice. "Eat your breakfast. I'm going to get my shoes on."

Draco stared miserably into his coffee.

***

Hermione stood behind Draco as they apparated to the Ministry. She had cast a bedazzling Hex upon herself, as she had for Borgin and Burkes, that would make her appear invisible. Only if somebody looked carefully would they see her faint outline, or her watery shadow. She walked too near to him for her own comfort, but needed to stay close, lest she be bump into by a passer by.

Draco walked into the phone-box unhindered, pressing his back to the side casually, in order to leave enough room for the invisible form of Hermione to slip in next to him.

"OW!" gasped Hermione.

"What? Hermione what is it!"

"Nothing just an- OW!"

"Hermione? What's the matter? Tell me!"

"I can't get in! There's... it's like a wall. It's almost as though it's sharp... I- I think it's some sort of ward keeping me out!"

Draco tried to look nonchalant while hissing at thin air. "Well I can't do this without you."

"Draco you have to."

"No, _you_ were the one who wanted to come in without a plan, you're the one who rushes in and makes it up as she goes along. I want to consider the angles. Go home."

"No!"

"Yes." Draco hit the side of the door. "Go home _now_. I'll find out what wards they have."

"Draco I can't ju-"

"Look! I'll come home at lunch, ok? I'll tell you what I've found out then. We can always come back then, it doesn't have to be a _dawn_ _raid_." Hermione said nothing. Draco tilted his head to the side and purred, "Are you biting your lip?"

"What?"

"You always bite your bottom lip when you're thinking." That ought to make her go home.

Hermione was glad he could not see the alarmed look that, no doubt, flashed across her face. "Oh." she said simply. "Do you _promise_ to come home later?"

"I love it when you call my flat 'home'."

Hermione said nothing. She decided that, when Draco said things like that, it was better to ignore him.

"I'll see you for lunch." he added. "I promise."

She did not reply but he heard the _crack_ of her disapparating. This was shortly followed by another _crack_.

"You forgot to give me the key." she told him tonelessly.

This he handed to her, holding out his hand- palm up- as though feeling for the rain that the clouds above were promising. He heard another _crack_ as she disapparated again.

***

Hermione went home, to stare at the walls of the flat and light one cigarette from the other all morning. She almost screamed when she discovered that Draco had no proper reference books. There was nothing other than his book about Merlic, a couple of issues of "The Potions Press" which did not look like they had even been read, and a volume entitled "Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy" which was more thoroughly thumbed than his childhood story of adventure. Hermione, against her better judgement, leafed through it. It was not _that_ bad... it was more like reading Lamarcks theory of evolution; dated and misinformed. She tried not to feel offended by some of the things it said about muggleborns. Draco had even underlined certain passages and annotated them in places. Was this what he thought of _her_? Hermione could not bear the thought of him thinking ill of her. For all his attentions, she could not help but feel that perhaps they were in spite of his opinions. She tried to focus her mind on the dark mark branded into his skin; tried to remind herself that he _was_ a Deatheater. Draco the Deatheater. It did not offer as much reassurance as she had thought it might. It nigh on broke her heart to think of it. The alien ink on his pearly skin was... it didn't belong.

She read another note he had written in the margin, the ink of this one looked fresher than the rest. It read:

_That doesn't make sense._

She smiled a little.

***

Meanwhile Draco was trying to find out why the wards were keeping Hermione out. He charmed the mask into the face of an unremarkable wizard and walked to the canteen. Armed with a mid-morning cup of tea, he sat at a table with a pair of gossipy looking witches from Minister of Magic's support staff.

"Good morning." he said in a sheepish voice. "Ma- May I sit here?"

"Oh, yes of course," said one of the witches as she moved her handbag off the seat next to her, "I've not seen you before."

"It's my first day." said Draco, with what he hoped was a shy smile.

"Oh how nice." said the other witch. "Look Ethel, he's barely out of Hogworts! What's you name poppet?"

"Daniel."

"How are you getting on Daniel?" asked Ethel, "I remember my first day, gosh. That was decades ago. I was so frightened and then one of those memo's hit me in the eye." the witch laughed at the memory. 'Daniel' smiled nervously.

"Don't worry about that though dear, it's never happened before or since. I was something of a special case. Ha ha ha."

"Have you been shown around properly?" asked the other witch. "It's such a confusing place..."

"Yes, I was given a tour of my department... but..."

"What is it dear?"

"I heard about that mudblood getting out... I'm a little afraid they might get in again." 'Daniel' confessed.

"Ah." said Ethel, sagely. "Well, don't go telling everybody... or anybody for that matter. But they've put new wards up."

"Really? What do they do?"

"They're Name Wards. They stop known undesirables from getting in, the only way they _can_ get in is if they are captured."

"Oh... how does a Name ward work though?"

"They stop whole families from getting in. Not a single Potter or Weasley could get in here." the witch, so kindly to 'Daniel', smiled evilly. "So don't worry dear. You are quite safe."

Draco looked up at the clock with alarm. "Oh gosh!" he yelped, "I'm going to be late. It was lovely to meet you both. Bye!"

And he dashed out of the canteen and into the Wizards toilets. He pulled off the mask and shrunk it down into his pocket, having removed he charms that shaped it. It was barely ten o'clock. He would not be able to go home for at least another two hours. But this, he supposed, gave him a chance to come up with something fiendishly clever to impress Hermione with.

Or at least something fiendish.

***

"Hermione? I'm home."

Hermione came in from the balcony. She was smiling at him. She had not smiled at him properly since Monday. "First thing you said to me?" she asked.

Draco scowled. "_Hey Longbottom, I've found your toad._ Can we please have a different question?"

"Ask me mine."

Draco growled at her and sat down on the sofa. "What are you making, other than some ridiculous point about how I was not exactly pleasant to you at school?"

Hermione laughed and sat on the arm of his seat. "There's cheese-on-toast-with-tomatoes-underneath under the grill. They should be ready in half a minute."

"Cheese on t- what?"

"Ah... wait until you try it." She said, ruffling his hair in a sisterly sort of way, and returning to the kitchen. "Now then. Tell me what the hell happened earlier." she called.

"It's a Name ward." Draco followed her to the kitchen, where he got a pair of plates out of the cupboard. "You cannot get it because you're a Granger."

"Ow!" Hermione burnt her hand on the grill in surprise. "But that's insane!"

"Here, let me." said Draco, moving her out of the way to remove their lunch from the oven. "It's not that insane."

"Name wards haven't been used in years... they're just for feuding families! What good could they do the Ministry? What if another Granger needs to get in?"

"Wizarding families are... well the pureblood ones... they-"

"Basically they don't want anybody with a drop of muggle blood _at all._"

Draco nodded gravely. "In short."

"Well _what_ are we going to do? I can't get passed a Name ward! You're just going to have to go alone-"

"Hermione, what if there _was_ a way for you to get passed the wards?"

"There isn't any I've heard of." she laughed. "Unless I _marry _someone who is allowed through!"

Draco smiled at her.

"Draco? No! What hell is wrong with you!"

"Come on Hermione, we could just as easily divorce."

"I am not becoming a divorcee before I and twenty-two and I am not becoming a Malfoy before _hell _freezes over!"

Draco's eyes flashed angrily. "What's wrong with being a Malfoy!"

"Nothing... It's just, Draco... marriage is pretty bloody drastic! I'm sure you could manage to get them out on your own. I could be waiting outside with a port-key to take us all back to head-quarters..." The thought appalled her. How could she let Draco have all the fun? No, not fun. That's not what she meant... what she really meant was- err - 'do all the work'.

"Is that really what you want?" he asked her, trying to keep any sly undertones out of his voice and expression.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you want to just wait on the sidelines while I do all the leg-work?"

Her eyes narrowed to furious slits.

"I'm just saying," he carried on, "that I would have expected you would want to be in on the action. I thought you would want to help."

"There's helping... and then there's getting _married_." she snapped. "Draco, no. I am not- this is ridiculous."

"Why?"

"I am not going to marry you just so I can get onto the Ministry!"

"Look," his voice was cross and drawling, "I'm hardly getting down on bended knee here. I'm just saying, this is a legal way for you to take a different name. We could get an annulment as soon as this is all over. Nobody would even have to know."

"Draco I-"

"_And_-" he carried on, "It's not as if I'm asking you to spend your life with me and have my children! I'm just offering the loan of my name and the protection it affords. Merlin, I thought you'd be pleased."

That was definitely _not_ all he was offering.

"Eat your lunch." she told him.

"Will you at least _consider_ it?"

"...Yes. I will consider it." said Hermione carefully. Perhaps he was right. She couldn't wait outside while he did the rescuing. He was much cleverer and more self-reliant than Harry or Ron; he would no doubt do just as a good a job without her. But... waiting outside, cringing before the Ministry; beaten by it's wards? She couldn't do it.

Draco beamed but quickly forced the delighted smile from his face; it wouldn't do for her to see how truly happy it made him. Blankly, he bit into his rapidly cooling lunch. She was right- cheese-on-toast-with-tomatoes-underneath was delicious. The sweet tomatoes, the melted cheese and the crispy toast all mingled together like-

"Draco?" Hermione interrupted his thoughts.

"Yes?"

"You _promise_ you would agree to annul it?"

"...Yes." No no no no no no. "Yes of course. Do you think I'd want to be married to you all my life?" he scoffed.

"Maybe."

"Bit full of yourself aren't you Gryffindor?"

"You've not exactly given me reason to believe you. After the way you've been behaving... the things you've said..."

Draco cursed silently. Why had he made no secret of his feelings for her? That was not the Slytherin way. He should have kept quiet.

"Draco... I also need you to promise you wont tell anybody back at Shell Cottage."

"What's Shell Cottage?"

Hermione had not yet told him the name. She had always been careful to refer to it only as 'Headquarters.' even if the term was laughable. The cramped in cottage, full of young Witches and Wizards constantly trying to cop off with each other behind the house or in the garden, was a far cry from the organised unit 'Headquarters' implied it was. Why had she not told him anything about it?

"Headquarters. Although... it barely warrants the name. It's more like... well it's terribly over-crowded and everyone is always playing tricks on each other and snogging in the garden."

Draco laughed a little, "That sounds like the Slytherin common room!" his face became suddenly serious. "Why did you not tell me before?"

"I don't know. I suppose I wasn't sure I could trust you."

"What makes you think you can now?"

"Well... we _are_ about to get married, even if it is a sham." She smiled at him impishly. He wouldn't have thought she could look so mischievous. It made him grin too. All the more so, because she had accepted his offer.

"We are?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and looking particularly haughty.

"...Yes."

He smirked and asked, "You want to marry me?"

"I suppose so."

"You're meant to say '_I do_.'" huffed Draco.

She narrowed her eyes and fixed him with a jokingly cross glare. "I do."

"Good." he said. "Of course you do. You're only human."

Hermione laughed and threw the edge of a crust at him. "Twit." she giggled.


	27. A message to the Minstry

_Hermione laughed and threw the edge of a crust at him. "Twit." she giggled_

When Hermione returned to the Ministry the next day, she was a Malfoy- and was perfectly appalled to find the idea slightly exciting.

The wards allowed her to pass through them into the telephone-box waylaying the last of her fears that the short muggle ceremony would not be enough to change her name in the wizarding world. Draco had stolen a wizarding Marriage License from the Ministry and they signed when they returned home, laughing delightedly, after their muggle wedding.

"_I only wish I could go far enough back in time to tell you about this while we were still at school!"_

"_Yes, well I'd come along and tell you just before you punched me..."_

They had gone over their plan in more detail later that night, as Hermione had permitted Draco to share a bed with her- providing he slept on top of the covers. They had whispered late into the night, arguing with each other and themselves as to the best way of getting the prisoners _out_ now that Hermione could once again get _in_. Their plan was relatively simple but they were still on edge as the telephone box descended into the busy Atrium.

"Hermione, just remember I've told them your name is Jane, alright?"

"Yes, yes. I can manage to retain information for longer than an _hour_ Malfoy." snapped Hermione, gripping her wand tightly in the pocket of her robe. "And if you make some sort of tired remark about my last name also being Malfoy, I swear I will-"

"Shh! Just remember the plan." said Draco, as the phone-box landed with a soft bump. "Follow me."

Hermione scampered after him, casting nervous glances all around herself. She was not bedazzled this time. They had decided, in hushed voices shortly before dawn, that the glamour would hold up better to the Ministry's detective wards than a Bedazzling Hex. Plenty of witches, _and_ wizards, wore glamours, the alarms could hardly sound every time a witch with a freckle-away charm came in.

However, she looked so terrified that Draco was convinced they'd never make it as far as the lifts, let alone the tenth floor. As the lift doors slid shut in front of them, he turned to her suddenly.

"Will you stop acting like a fugitive!" he resisted the urge to shake her. "If you keep hopping about like that people are going to suspect something. Act _calm_ for Merlin's sake."

"Oh I _do_ apologise, imagine being a little jumpy when we're... well. _You_ _know_." retorted Hermione, who had been about to take his hand- in what she convinced herself was _simply_ a show of solidarity. Draco was too anxious to really be aware of this.

"Yes but I don't want the whole Ministry to hear about it!" he answered, in a harsher tone than he had meant to.

Hermione made a frustrated noise and turned her head away from him to face the blurred mirror of the doors.

"Git."

The doors opened again and a woman dressed in a bobbled pink suit joined them, Hermione managed not to jump this time. They were still only on the third floor.

"Ah, Malfoy." said the witch, "I have been meaning to speak to you."

Hermione very nearly replied, until she realised that the toadish woma...

Oh merlin..._No_!

"How may I help you Umbridge?" asked Draco, his voice a perfectly level drawl while Hermione tried to conceal her blushing cheeks behind the pale blond hair of her mask.

"I wanted to know a little more about how that Mudblood escaped. She's a tricky little... but perhaps we could discuss it when in a slightly more private setting? Would you mind accompanying me to my office?"

"I'm sorry but I cannot. I promised my companion here she could see Olivander. Her wand has been playing up you see." Draco flashed her their access forms and she nodded her head. The suspicion faded from her piggy eyes and she then turned on Hermione.

"Oh I see... Dolores Umbridge." she said, holding out a pudgy little hand.

"I'm afraid Jane's English is not good." explained Draco easily, as Hermione shook her hand silently.

"Oh? Where is she from? I speak a little French."

"Norway."

"Oh." Apparently Norse was outside of Umbridge's field of knowledge. "Well she's very pretty. Wherever did you find her?"

"She is a distant relative of mine. Was this your floor?" asked Draco, as he pressed a hand into the small of Umbridge's back and guided her out of the lift. "I will come and see you about the escaped prisoner this afternoon. For now, my pretty little cousin will grow impatient with me if I do not keep my promise, as much as I should like to bask in your company for an hour."

Umbridge flirted her eyes at him, "I'll have a pot of tea ready."

The doors closed and Draco's shoulders relaxed. "You have no idea how relieved I am that after today-" began Draco, stopping himself before he gave too much away. You never knew who was listening these days. Hermione smiled at him. "Well... you know what I mean." he smiled at her.

"I know. I'm glad too. I don't like that you... well, I'm glad you'll be with me instead." Draco raised his eyebrows. "_Us_ instead.... I meant... oh shut up. We're nearly there."

The doors opened and they were, once again, on the tenth floor. The stale air reeked of wet stone. It reminded Draco of the first day of term in the Slytherin Common Room after it had lay unused for the whole Summer.

"Follow me." he told Hermione. She walked beside him, her composure recovered after their fright in the lifts.

They reached the corridor where most of the cells were. Draco caught her sleeve, although she had already stopped. The guard that Draco had his little understanding with should now be on duty alone, having had a brief chat with his night-time counterpart at the beginning of his shift. Hermione nodded in understanding and knelt down, touching her wand to the floor and whispering "_**Vapeur fumée**_".

Smoke, curling in the underground air, poured from the tip of her wand and flowed down the corridor. Draco, standing watch behind her, sent a handful of heating charms over his shoulder to accompany the smoke. He chanced a glance to see how Hermione's smoke charm was doing. He was surprised at how quickly she had managed to fill the long stone tunnel, even more surprised by the fact she had managed to contain it, not wanting the alarm to be raised elsewhere.

'That's my girl.' he thought proudly.

"_Draco,_" Came Hermione's soft voice from her position from the floor, "Go in _now_, I'll follow in a minute."

"Oh no you don't!" His voice was sharp. "I'm not leaving you uncovered. _You_ go in: _I_ sound the alarm and rush up behind you in a wild panic. Stick to the plan."

"I only agreed to the bloody plan because you wouldn't let me sleep!"

"Nonetheless you agreed. We're wasting time, Mrs. Malfoy. Hurry up. And take your mask off!"

Hermione got angrily to her feet and tugged off the pale mask. She dashed into the smoke as she shrunk it. Draco heard her coughing and quickly cast a silencing charm around the entrance to the corridor. Then he swished his wand gracefully and a high pitched Alarm reverberated round the stone of the walls. He waited a full minute, the longest in his life, to dash after Hermione and into the wall of choking heat and piercing sound.

He could hear her coughing and trying to convince the guard to open the cells.

"They have- ahem hem- vital information!" she stopped to cough again, "I thought Yaxley told you about this!"

"Not procedure." answered a voice, too gravelly to be the guard Draco had tricked. "I put out the fire. If they want me to do more they send someone down."

"Yes!" squealed Hermione, "They sent _me_ down!"

"You came before the alarm. They couldn't have sent you. They didn't know yet."

"I believe-" interrupted Draco as he appeared through the thick and acrid smoke, "_I_ sent her down, before I had chance to raise the alarm myself. I would be the mysterious 'they' to whom you refer." it was hard to keep his voice steady, despite the heat and the fumes, but he managed it.

"...Wh- What? You're from upstairs? So... I _am_ supposed to open the cells?"

"Well _obviously_." sighed Draco, promptly wishing he hadn't- it was all he could do to keep from coughing to begin with.

The guard nodded and began fumbling for his keys, dashing to the nearest cell to open the door. Draco and Hermione exchanged a look before hurrying after him to stun the inmate. Hermione recognised him as one of the employee's of Flourish and Blotts'. She winked at him conspiratorially, despite her streaming eyes, and promptly stunned him.

"Well done Jane. Right, you levitate him to safety and then come back for the next one. Be quick about it!" commanded Draco. Hermione, nodded and ran down the corridor, the prostrate figure floating above her.

Hermione bedazzled the prisoner and left him by the lifts, in a shadowy corner where nobody would trip over him. Then she ran back into the wall of thick white smoke.

Draco had left two stunned prisoners slumped outside their cells for Hermione to levitate away, the next time there were three and the final time four, which he and the guard were already lifting with their wands, ready to charge out of the 'fire'.

"Wait," said Draco to the guard, "Before we go, I want to give you a message."

"A... message?" spluttered the other man in the rising heat.

"Yes. I want you to tell them that I've married a Mudblood and that I'm going to destroy all of them. Do you think you can remember that?"

The guard guffawed nervously but soon choked on his laughter. "You _what_?" he asked.

"Yes. Tell them I Have Married a Mudblood. Make sure you get that bit in first, oh hello Hermione, I was just telling the guard here my little message for Yaxley and Co."

"Draco! I told you last night we don't have time!"

Draco ignored her and turned back to the guard, "_This_ is my wife." he said.

The guard suddenly tried to bolt passed them to raise the alarm. "_**Petrifus Totalus**_!" shouted Draco and the man fell to the floor as stiff as a plank.

"Draco stop pissing about!" coughed Hermione. "You can't possibly be able to breath in here and we have to get the prisoners into the lifts! I'm going to levitate these last one's there. If you aren't next to me when the lift doors close..." her voice trailed off into the smoke.

"Be right with you!" Called Draco. He stood over the prostate guard. "And don't forget the second half of my message: I'm going to _destroy you all_. _**Aérer Pur**_. _**Refroidir**_." Draco swished his wand and the choking heat and blinding smoke disappeared as though somebody had pulled a plug. A further flick and the alarm went off too. "Ta ta." he called to the guard.

_Draco squeezed through the closing doors of the lift just in time._

"What was all that about?" asked Hermione. "You're never going to be able to come back now."

"Why would I want to come back?" asked Draco abruptly. "I'm coming with you."

Hermione did not look at him, she knew he would not feel quite the same way once he had found out exactly who else was at Shell cottage. She concentrated on shrinking the last of their liberated charges.

Draco had regretted agreeing to that particular aspect of the plan when she had turned her wand on him for practice.

"_Use the muggle from upstairs! I'm too important to the plan. If you can't resize me-"_

"_Quiet Draco, I know what I'm doing. Get down from there and be a man!"_

"_**Redigo**_"she murmured over the last wizard and he promptly shrank to the size of a banana. She looked up at Draco, who was standing in the way of the doors to keep them from closing. "Give me the basket."

Draco obliged, pulling it out of his pocket and resized it for Hermione to, ever so carefully, place the rag-doll figures of the prisoners inside it. She fixed them in place with the charm used to stick her to the chair back in the interrogation room. She didn't want them rolling around and hurting themselves. She then cast several protective and cushioning charms around around it. As a finishing touch she covered them with a blanket- shaped to look as though it were covering more than it was.

"Are you ready dearest?" asked Draco, in his most bored sounding drawl.

"Almost, I just need to put my face on. Tell the taxi to wait." Joked Hermione, rummaging in the deep pockets of her robe. She found the small rubber mask, no bigger than a thimble, and resized it. Draco watched impatiently as she pulled it over her head.

"_Now_ are you ready?"

"Born Ready. As ever."

"Good." Draco stepped out of the way of the doors, which shut behind him, and pressed the button for the first floor.

"What's the bet you get glared at?" he asked her quietly as he took her hand.

"What do you mean?" Hermione turned her head to stare at him. "Every thing's gone to plan! There's no way we'll be suspected... unless the guard managed to raise the alarm but he cou-"

"I _meant,_" Draco interrupted, "Because you are apparently going picnicking with the Ministry's most universally wanted bachelor."

Hermione laughed and tossed her head at him. "I didn't know Blaise Zabini worked for the Ministry."

Draco glared at her. She probably didn't know about Pansy and Blaise. He really shouldn't say so-

"Yes, well I suppose _Mudbloods_ like you have to take what they can get. No Wizard of my standing would ever condescend to even look at you. Zabini must make a fine substitute"

"That would have hurt," answered Hermione dryly, as the lift stopped, "If you hadn't married me yesterday."

Draco opened his mouth to respond but the lift doors opened before he had chance and Hermione, still holding his hand, dragged him towards the telephone box.

"And you know I was only joking." she whispered.

The Atrium was far less busy than it had been. In fact it was nearly empty; even the latest of the workers having already arrived and no one yet having left their desk or workstation for a mid-morning break. Only a handful of people loitered around the fireplaces, waiting to escort visiting officials to meetings.

Hermione and Draco crossed the floor unchallenged and were safely inside the phone-box before the alarm was sounded.

"THERE HAS BEEN A SECURITY BREECH. I REPEAT: THERE HAS BEEN A SECURITY BREECH. EVERYONE IS TO REMAIN AT THEIR WORKSTATIONS. THE MINISTRY HAS BEEN SEALED. THE HAS BEEN A SECURITY BREECH..."

The phonebox shuddered to a halt half way out to street level, Hermione and Draco could see the pavement in front of their very noses. Hermione pointed her wand at the ceiling of the phone-box.

"Draco, cast a shield charm." she said in a rush, "There's going to be some shrapnel. _**Reducto**_!"

Draco, hardly had time to understand her garbled missive before she sent broken glass and mangled scraps of metal flying into the air. He quickly raised a shield. When she was done blasting open the phonebox it looked like a tin can that had been opened by a maniac. Draco gave her a boost and she scrambled free. The alarms of the Ministry could be heard even on the street, which was fortunately deserted. Draco handed her the basket and proceeded to try and pull himself out when, without warning, the mangled phonebox began to descend back into the Atrium.

At first Draco held fast to the pavement but jets of hexes were being sent up from the floor below him and he was forced to let go, landing with a crash in the protective cage of the phonebox.

"Draco!" shouted Hermione.

"Help me!" he shouted back. "Oh fuck it, Hermione get out of here. I'll be fine."

"Now is not the time to grow a spine Draco." she shouted down after him and, pulling off her watch and placing it carefully in the basket. The portkey charm would be activated in about five minutes anyway and the passengers of the basket would appear in the garden of Shell Cottage, safe and sound. She jumped after Draco.


	28. Back at Shell Cottage

_She jumped after Draco._

Using a further cushioning charm, she alighted gracefully at his side, although the hems of her robe tore slightly on the jagged top of the phonebox.

"Hermione!" Draco looked especially livid. He had not gone to such, previously unimaginable lengths, to have his new wife top herself for no reason. She had been _safe_. Why the bloody hell had she followed him?

"You are the stupidest Gryffindor twat I have _ever_ met! And that includes Weasley! What if that had been your leg you just ripped?" he ranted as the phonebox, constantly bombarded with hexes, continued to fall. "How could you be so bloody idiotic when I was already being brave enough for the both of us?"

Hermione glared at him as she pulled off her left earring. She opened and shook it. Nothing came out. With a desperate sounding cry she yanked out her other earring, wincing as she ripped the flesh of her earlobe in her haste. She opened this one too and a tiny broomstick fell into her shaking palm. Before she could do anything more, Draco had resized it and was pulling her onto the handle.

"Light fingered Witch." he hissed in her ear, his hot breath oddly soothing on her torn lobe. He kicked off from the wall and tried to fly out of the cramped space. It took him two more tries, by which time they were not ten feet from the Atrium floor. Finally, he succeeded in getting out of the tin prison and soared up into the air and flew towards the hole Hermione had blasted in the ceiling. Hermione had raised a shield charm around them, but was having some difficulty concentrating. She truly hated flying.

"Focus!" shouted Draco as a curse whizzed past his ear, singing his hair. "Just pretend your on a staircase or something."

Hermione did not find this exactly helpful but she screwed up all her nerve and sinew and strengthened the shield. They were twenty feet from the hole in the ceiling, ten feet, five... Daylight and cold air met Hermione like old friends as Draco steered the broom through the small opening. Both of them cheered triumphantly as they soared into the sky, until Hermione remembered what was going on.

"Draco ,stop! The prisoners are still on the pavement with the portkey." she called above the whistling wind.

"What the bloody hell did you leave them there for?" he yelled, pushing the broom into a terrifying nosedive. Hermione screamed.

"_**Accio**_ basket!" shouted Draco, pointing his wand at the street beneath them. The basket rose quickly up to meet them, as Draco dived downwards towards it. He caught it with ease, although Hermione's wretched screams did put him off slightly. He pulled up and levelled out their course, zooming over the curiously empty streets of London. They climbed higher and higher, breaking through the clouds and into the mid-morning sun.

Hermione gripped the handle for dear life. The portkey would have to activate eventually. The cold air bit at her cheeks and she wished she had brought a cloak of some sort. She _had_ packed almost all of hers and Draco's clothes, knowing the delight they would bring to the rest of the Shell Cottage residents, but they were packed away neatly in a small, magically extended, bag in Draco's robe pocket. She shivered and shifted, ever so _ever so_ carefully, further back into Draco, who responded by wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Argh. Both hands on the handle! _Both_ hands!" she squealed, trying not to move at _all_.

"Oh calm down Gryffindor." teased Draco. "It's a wonder your house _ever_ won at Quidditch. You're all such wimps."

"If I were not- woooah- having some sort of panic atta... argh _please_ be sensible!"

Draco leveled out the broomstick again. "Fine." Hermione didn't have to turn to know he was pouting. "But you are no fun. If I didn't love you I'd throw you off."

Hermione's insides froze and seemed to fall a hundred feet. She couldn't have heard him correctly. The wind was howling in her ears; there was no way he had actually said-

"Did you hear me?" he asked softly, nuzzling her unbloodied ear.

Okay... but just because he had said it... didn't mean he... _meant _it. He was teasing her. Or maybe trying to take her mind off flying. He hadn't _meant _it-

"I mean it."

Fuck.

She tried to turn her head to look at his face. He couldn't be serious. How could anybody, even someone as love-starved as Draco clearly was, think they loved someone after about a _week_? He was either pulling her leg... or was still in the vice like grip of the nervous breakdown that just wouldn't die.

"Draco..." she began gently, trying to keep her voice calm and steady.

"What?" his voice was harsh suddenly. Guarded. Was she about to 'let him down gently' or something? "You don't believe me? Is that it?"

Draco's flying was becoming a little unsteady and Hermione tried to keep calm. Tried to keep him even calmer, if she was honest, he was the one who knew how to fly the bloody thing.

"It's not that-"

"Well then _what_ _is it_."

"It's... that you shouldn't."

"What, because I'm a Deatheater? Bea cause you're a mud... a muggleborn. Or is it because you still want Weasley?"

Hermione's eyes stung. "No." she answered. "None of that."

"Well then what?"

The watch in the wicker basket started to glow and Draco wrapped his arm around her again, tightly, while she reached her hand gingerly into the basket she was clutching and pressed a finger to it.

"You'll find out when we get there."

Draco felt the portkey tugging them out of the sky and to their new home.

***

Their landing was heralded by a loud cracking, almost as though a hundred people had clapped once in unison. Draco looked down and quickly found the source of the noise; his broomstick had snapped.

"Draco?" asked a small voice. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. I'm fine." he answered gruffly, "Are you?"

Hermione struggled off him and checked herself over. "I'm okay. Where's the basket? Oh god! Oh they've not been crushed have they?"

Draco looked at her. "Of course not. You've put so many cushioning charms round it." He stood up and pointed to the, ever so slightly squashed looking picnic basket that had apparently been lain beneath him. "I think that's what broke our fall."

Hermione yelped and scrambled to the basket, pulling away the blanket. She sighed in relief as she was met by ten perfectly safe and completely unharmed miniature people.

"Hermione!" shouted a voice. She looked over her shoulder to find Neville standing in the back doorway. "You're finally home!" He rushed out of the house, which was the smallest abode Draco had ever set eyes on, save for that Half-Giant Hagrid's house, and ran to Hermione, picking her up and spinning her around in sheer delight.

Draco watched jealously. He had been about to clear his throat loudly and tell the stupid oaf to get his hands _off_ of her, when a surge... a ... a _swarm_ of people poured into the garden from all directions. They seemed to be coming out of the _trees_. He remembered how Hermione had told him that their so-called head-quarters was more like his common room at school. So half of them had been snogging had they? Oh well _that_ was a welcome party. He was expecting them to be waiting on the doorstep... he had envisaged _banners_ for Merlin's sake. Why weren't they as excited to see her as he would have been?

"You've just come from the Ministry? Wow Hermione! You get into that place once more and they'll have to give you a desk!" Colin Creevey was saying.

"Yes, well. I'm sure she has plenty to tell us. Where are all the rescued prisoners?" said Moody curtly, his magical eye whirling around in his head searching for them.

"Here." said Hermione, lifting up the basket to him. "They've been stunned and shrunk but they're all alright."

Draco was scowling. Where was precious Potter or the Weasel wonder? They were supposed to _see_ him bringing her back. And why did everyone insist on touching her? A gaggle of witches had formed around Hermione, stroking her head and squeezing her hands as though she were an angel incarnate. Which, Draco supposed, she was.

Hermione, much as she enjoyed Luna's rather boisterous kisses, found herself looking around for Draco. He was lent against a tree to her left, completely oblivious to the red-haired menace that was running towards him.

"Ron, no!" she shouted.

Draco looked over to her in confusion, he followed her stricken gaze just in time to see a fist flying towards him. With no time to duck, he also saw it break his nose.

"Ronald Weasley!" shouted a woman's voice. Draco, didn't really know whose it was but it sounded familiar. All the same, he set about evening the score with the scrawny red-head in front of him. He punched him in the gut, following it up with an elbow in the spine as the Wizard bent double.

"Draco Malfoy you get off him now!" _This_ voice Draco knew. He looked up to see Hermione, looking furious and concerned at once. He hoped the concern was for him.

"Get _off_ him." Draco looked away from Hermione to see Harry _sodding_ Potter, wand raised and pointing directly at him. Draco cringed as he realised it was _his_ wand Potter was pointing at him.

"Well _really_ Potter," he drawled, "can your boyfriend not fight his own battles?"

"He doesn't need to. He has friends, unlike some Deatheater _scum_-"

"Harry! Stop that immediately." Hermione pushed Harry's wand away and helped Draco to his feet. She stood between them, almost a head shorter than both Wizards, with her hands on her hips. Ron she left on the ground.

"You two are _not_ to fight. Do you understand me? Harry? Draco has been extremely brave in helping me and has come over to our side a hero, understand? And Draco? You can wipe that smug look off your face right now." She glared so ferociously that Draco quickly complied. "Harry is our leader. And, more importantly he is my friend. You are to do as he says and you are most definitely not to fight with him!"

"You never said anything about taking orders from Potter!" cried Draco. "You only said-"

"Trouble in Paradise already?" asked a thick voice from the floor. They all looked down to see Ron, leant against the trunk of the tree, nursing a bloody nose nobody had even noticed Draco give him.

Harry quickly helped him up.

"Has Hermione not been completely honest with you?" he asked, groaning as Harry pulled his arm around his shoulders for support. "Well, there's plenty more surprises in store."

"Ron shut up." hissed Harry. "There's no call for this."

"There bloody well _is_. It's _his_ fault. Every thing's his fault. Dumbledore, me 'n' Hermione. Everything."

"Ron, you know that isn't true." Harry told him gently. "Snape's explained everything. Draco wasn't to blame."

"Snape?" Draco looked confused. "How could... No, because... Hermione?" he looked at her for clarification. For support.

She bit her lip. "Draco... there is an awful lot I couldn't... that I didn't tell you."

Draco was shocked when a tear dropped down her cheek. Without thinking he pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms around her. "Hush," he whispered, "Come now. Hush, what ever's wrong?"

"Hermione!" gasped Harry, "What's... What are you... You are hugging him?"

Hermione pulled out of Draco's warm embrace and glared at Harry. "Yes and I just hugged Neville, Colin, Luna, Ginny, Molly, Remus, Tonks, Dobby and Moody. What is your point exactly?"

"He's... _Malfoy_."

"Oh Grow up." she snapped.

"I _knew_ there was something going on." said Ron darkly, before leaving everyone to crowd around Hermione and Draco beneath the tree.

There was a bit of an awkward silence, which Molly Weasley finally broke, by suggesting everybody go inside the house for elevenses.


	29. Ginny's Extandable Ears

Draco sat at the table, which was about the same size as a house table at Hogworts, next to Hermione which was not well received but went unmentioned, and Moody. Moody seemed to be the only person at all pleased to see him. And that included Ginny, which was fair enough he supposed- they'd not really parted on good terms. He helped himself to toast.

"Oh do tuck in Malfoy." muttered a Ravenclaw Draco didn't know. "We'd hate to see _you_ go without."

Arthur cleared his throat loudly and rattled his teaspoon against a jam jar. "Ahem hem." he said, standing up. "I would like to formally welcome young Mister Malfoy to Shell Cottage."

A grumble of discontent went around the table.

"As Hermione said, he has come to us a hero. As we speak, Tonks and Remus are reviving ten witches and wizards upstairs who, had it not been for Mister Malfoy, would still be imprisoned in the Ministry. Hermione has also informed me that he has not yet been brought completely up to speed with... certain aspects of our plan. Snape should be here in less than an hour to do so. I would prefer it- no- I _insist_ upon it, that you none of you say anything out of turn before then."

Draco looked up and down the table at the thirty or so Shell cottage inmates. Nobody looked at him. Some were hanging their heads as though ashamed, while others were grinning, almost gleefully, at each other. He turned to Hermione to question her further but she was on her feet and dashing out of the room before he could ask her.

"Ah..." said Arthur. "Perhaps, Ginny -er- would you go after her?"

"No." cut in Draco, also standing up. "I will."

"I ah, I think you had better n-" Arthur continued but Draco had already left the room. "Ginny? Would you go after them?"

Ginny nodded. They listened to the sound of her feet ascending the stairs at a run.

***

Ginny heard them from the top pf the stairs, in the girls bedroom which Draco had somehow managed to get into. The wards should have kept him out... He sounded cross and wheedling. Oh she knew _that_ voice.

"But Hermione, _what_ is it they aren't telling me? You can't keep it from me! I'll find out eventually so just _tell_ me now!"

"Go away!" Hermione's voice was thick with tears.

"Hermione? Why are you crying?" His voice dropped and Ginny could no longer make out what he was saying, despite the fact she pressed her ear to the keyhole.

"Draco, you just... I can't tell you. Not after everything. You're..." her voice wavered. "You're going to really hate me. And... I don't think I could-"

"Hush! I'd _never _hate you! I love you. I told you I love you."

Ginny gasped and the voices were silent immediately. Before she knew it, Draco had flung open the door magically and cast a full body bind curse on her. He bounded off the bed, on which Hermione had now propped herself up, and dragged her into the room.

"Obliviate her" shrieked Hermione, her hair sticking to her tear stained cheeks. "Oh god Draco Obliviate her!"

Draco hauled her on to the bed and shut the door, casting a few silencing charms on the room as he did it. "Why?" he asked.

"Because she _heard_ us."

"So?"

"She heard _you_."

"So?" he asked her again, shrugging one shoulder. "I don't care if she knows I love you."

Hermione cradled her head in her hands. "Please stop saying that."

Draco jumped back onto the bed, leaving Ginny completely paralysed at the end of it, and he scooped up Hermione in his arms and set her on his lap.

"Hermione _what_ is you aren't telling me?" he demanded.

When she made no other reply than a forlorn hiccup he threw her away from him and onto the other side of the magically enlarged bed in frustration.

"Tell me!" he shouted.

"Not until you obliviate Ginny and send her away!" she told him.

"Fine!" Draco crawled back over to Ginny and picked up his wand. He released her from her full body bind and gave her a deep look. He winked. "Obliviate." he said, not pointing his wand at her. He motioned with his head for her to leave.

Nodding Ginny got up and left the room, subtly dropping a pair of extendible-ears as she went. She closed the door and knelt down outside it holding the pink tube to her ears, Draco's voice sounded through it.

"Hermione, I _demand_ that you tell me **now**."

Hermione hiccuped. "You'll regret it." she said miserably.

"Try me."

Ginny heard the sound of the bed creaking as Draco presumably rejoined Hermione. Hermione whispered something.

"No..."

"Draco... I'm so sorry. I didn't know how to tell y-"

"No. You're lying."

"Draco please..."

For a long while, all Ginny could hear was Hermione's irregular sniffs as she obviously tried to reign in her tears. That was a mistake, Ginny knew that much, Draco gave in at the first sight of tears. It would have been better if she howled and sobbed all over him.

"Why did you not tell me before?" Draco's voice was too calm.

"How could I? You'd _never_ have helped me! What was I supposed to say? Supper's ready Draco and by the way we faked your mothers death?"

"Perhaps."

"Draco...look at me." Ginny assumed he looked at her. "If ... If I'd told you... you'd _never_ have come over to our side."

"I'm not on _their_ side!" the pink tube of Ginny's extendible ear rang with the volume of his protest, "I was only ever on _my_ side. I _thought_ I was on your side... for a time."

"Draco you have to see that _this_ is the horse to back. Once we find your father, Harry can kill he who must not be named. Why do you think he's hiding? As soon as Harry lays eyes on him he's as good as dead and he knows it! You'll do better on this side!"

There was such a long pause that Ginny lifted her head away from the ears to peep through the keyhole. Draco and Hermione were sat facing away from each other on the ridiculous bed that slept two dozen. It looked like Draco said something and Ginny hurriedly dropped her head back to the ear.

"That's not true Draco." Hermione was saying.

"Oh? So what is this if not betrayal? You let me think my own mother had died, just so you could get your muddy hands on my blood!"

"Draco no, it wasn't like that!"

"And then, _then_ you had the nerve to _comfort_ me. To pretend like you were looking after me when all the while you were just plotting how to use me best. You're no better than any of them! You're just another selfish-" his voice was muffled suddenly and Ginny quickly looked through the keyhole again to make sure they weren't murdering each other. They weren't. They were kissing.

They broke apart and Ginny returned her attentions to the ear again. It was a long while before either of them spoke.

"Draco... do you remember what I told you when we got married?"

Ginny nearly fell off the floor.

"A pack of bloody lies."

"No, I said that I wanted to go back in time and tell you we would eventually get married when we were still at school."

"What has that got to do with it?" asked Draco harshly.

"If I _could_ go back in time-"

"Well you can't mudblood."

"I would tell myself how much I care about you now. And I'd tell you to stop being such an idiot and to just come back here with me."

"With a quick pit-stop to rescue all the other prisoners." added Draco dryly. "Tell me now then."

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me how much you 'care' about me." Hermione did not answer him. "Come on! Now's your chance mudblood, I told you I loved you; you tell me how _you_ feel."

"Do ... you-"

"No I don't love you! Not any more. Oh what's this? Tears?"

The keyhole confirmed, to the shell-shocked Ginny, that Hermione was indeed crying. She also noted that Draco looked pretty unconvincing for a man who was no longer in love. He looked at Hermione's down turned head with a mixture of adoration and guilt.

Hermione looked up and Draco's face hardened at once.

"Draco, I-" her voice faltered. "I don't know how I feel."

"Aw, what's the matter Mudblood? Niffler got your tongue? Or are the muggles that raised you so ineloquent you cannot even describe your own feelings?"

Hermione did not reply but Ginny hear a loud smacking sound as skin hit skin. She hoped she had slapped him. She really did.

"How _dare_ you!" Hermione shrieked, "How _dare_ you say that about me. It's that sort of thing that got us into this sodding mess to begin with! If you'd never been such a pig-ignorant prick, believing rubbish like that, then you and I might have been friends a whole lot sooner! Then there would have been no need for me to lie to you." she paused for a moment but Draco did not say anything. "What do you want me to say anyway? That I love you too? That I hate you? What do you want because I-"

Hermione tailed off suddenly. Ginny strained her ears trying to make out what was going on. Giving up on sound she sat up and tried her luck with sight.

They were kissing again.

Ginny watched as Draco pulled away first. Hermione hiccuped again and he smiled for a moment. Ginny bent her head back to the pink tube.

"I came after you."Hermione said softly. Ginny imagined Draco nodding obediently. She hoped he wasn't.

"And what does that mean?" he spat. Apparently Ginny's wishes were being granted. "Just that you're a silly Gryffindor who can't keep her nose out of other peoples affairs."

"And you're just a sneaky snake that can't take a little deceit when it's directed at him!" snapped Hermione. She sighed and carried on. "Can we _please_ stop talking to each other like we're still at school. I really don't care _what_ house you were in. You're still the same."

"Oh is that so. What about this, hmm? Does this bother you?"

"No."

"Liar. I saw the way you looked at it before."

Thoroughly confused, Ginny pressed her eye one again to the keyhole. Draco was had pulled up the sleeve of his robe and was brandishing his forearm at Hermione. Even Ginny felt a little sick at the sight of the Dark Mark on his skin. But Hermione had caught hold of his wrist and was lowering her mouth to it. Ginny's stomach flipped a little as Hermione's lips brushed his inky skin. She was saying something but Ginny was too stunned to reach again for the extendible ear. She merely watched them, dumbfounded.

The front door opened downstairs but Ginny, like the couple she observed, ignored it. She barely heard the low voices below her in the hallway. Draco had got up from the bed and walked over to the window, leaving Hermione alone on the ridiculously large bed.

"Snapes' here!" Mollys voice shouted up the stairs. Draco spun round and started striding over to the door stopping to drag Hermione off the bed to accompany him.

Ginny slunk away from the door and rushed down the stairs.

She burst into the sitting room, where everybody seemed to have already congregated, to be met by dozens of questioning looks.

"He knows." she said.

"What!" Snape shouted. "Why did you not wait for me to come here first! How did he take it?"

"Erm..." Ginny tried to sound airy. "So so."

"Be. More. Specific." bit out Snape.

"I think you had better come upstairs to see for yourself." said Ginny.

Snape sighed and followed her out of the room. Once they were in the hall Ginny closed the door and cast a silencing charm upon it. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"What is the meaning of this Miss Weasley?" he asked softly.

"Okay, ideally you'd take a calming draught before I told you this but-"

Snape held up an hand, silencing her. He slid a hand into the breast pocket of his robe and produced a small vial of light blue liquid, which he drank in one. A relaxed look spread across his sallow face, much like one might see on the face of a contented friend after a large supper and shortly before a long nap on the sofa with some sort of pet.

"...You just carry that around do you?"

"Only when I am coming here. I find it helps me to cope with the twins. And the general ignorance and stupidity with which I am faced."

"I... see."

"What was it you wanted to tell me?"

"I was wrong."

Snapes serene look faltered for a moment. "How wrong." he asked her.

"I didn't think they'd move so quickly! It was _months_ before they even _kissed_ back at school-"

"How wrong were you?" asked Snape again.

"They're Married."

"Would you repeat that?"

"They say they got married and I'm inclined to believe them because Draco managed to get passed the wards mum put on the girls bedroom door. Also," she carried on regardless of Snapes look of utter confusion and shock, "they keep kissing. And Draco thinks he loves her."

"I... see... " Snape was staring into the mid-distance as though he were in some sort of trance. "I think, perhaps, my calming draught was improperly brewed. Too much Dixie venom perhaps..."

"No Snape, you heard right. They're married. Draco loves her. She was tracing her lips over his Dark Mark last time I saw them. I really fucked up."

Snape staggered over to the stairs and sat down. "Indeed." he said numbly.

"I think we need to get moving as soon as possible. Even if nobody finds out about them, it still isn't certain what's going to happen now that he knows about Narcissa. We need to get everybody out of here and onto Snakeyface's trail as soon as we can. The less people here, the less witnesses."

Snape nodded at her. "Well done Gryffindor." he muttered. The serene and contented look had disappeared from his face, replaced by the familiar expression of grim resolve. "You have managed to come up with the most obvious plan open to us. I will return to Hogworts immediately and return with the artefacts needed for scrying."

"Aren't you going to talk to Draco first?"

"No. I want everybody out of here as soon as possible. We don't have time to gossip. Tell him to be ready."

With that, Snape swooped past her back towards the sitting room. "Snape, wait!" she called after him. He stopped and turned, fixing her with an annoyed look.

"Do you have any more of that calming draught?" she asked.

"I shall bring you some back." he said. "I think you and I are going to need it."


	30. Good Morning Snapey

"_I shall bring you some back." he said. "I think you and I are going to need it."_

Snape was unable to return until the following morning. He appareted to the boundary of Shell Cottage and crunched up the gravel path to the front door. It was still early, the first light of day only just appearing in the sky, but the chimney was smoking away merrily.

The door was answered by Hermione, dressed in a white cotton nightgown and a black lambswool jacket that he thought he recognised. She too was smoking, but far from merrily. It did not look like she had slept much and her eyes were red from what might be sleep deprivation or excessive crying.

"Good Morning Miss Granger. May I come in?" he asked her, looking her right in the eye. Not looking at her legs even once. He's wait until she'd turned round to do that.

"Morning Severus." she rasped, standing to one side to let him in. "Molly's making breakfast. I don't think the others are up yet."

"Oh?" he was surprised, usually their inhabitants of Shell cottage were awake at this hour, despite the winter dark.

"Yes," she ruffled her hair on one side dejectedly. "I'm afraid we had a pretty late night."

"I take it you were not celebrating."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and took a long draw on her cigarette. "No." she answered with a plume of smoke. "We weren't. Are you going to go in or are you going to stand there watching me smoke all morning?"

Snape scowled and pushed past her into the hallway, following it though to the kitchen. Molly was standing over a large cauldron, charming a large spoon to stir it's contents.

"Good morning Molly." he said loudly, over the various sounds of bubbling cooking, whistling kettles and crackling fires.

"Oh Severus." she said, jumping slightly. "Thank goodness you're here. That boy of yours has been nothing but trouble!"

"In the first place Molly, he is not _my_ boy. In the second, what has he done to make a nuisance of himself in so short a time?"

Molly bustled about, making him a large mug of sweet tea. She was one of the few people who knew that Snape like four sugars in his tea. The only others were dead.

"Well _first_ off, he insisted on helping me cook supper-"

"You can hardly find fault with that." interrupted Snape. "He was obviously trying to make himself useful." Even Snape didn't believe his objection.

"And he managed to burn the soup. I don't know how he managed it," she held up her hands as if surrendering all responsibility for the explanation, "But he did. Then he set about winding up my Ron until-"

"I think that boy deserves what ever's coming to him!" Snape interjected again. "After what he did to Hermione..."

Molly sighed. "You're right. I know. But your boy was winding him up something _rotten_. And he was very cruel to Hermione. And the next minute he was charming paper birds to fly across the table to her and smiling as though nothing had happened and that seemed to upset her even more."

Snape sipped his scalding tea and frowned at her. "Is that everything?"

"No it jolly well _isn't_ everything! He then demanded that he would either have a room to himself, saying he might share it with Hermione 'if she was good'. Well, Ron and Harry had to be restrained and poor Hermione was up half the night trying to calm everybody down."

"She is a credit to us all." murmured Snape.

"The poor girl was in pieces. And then, quite without warning, at about midnight, Narcissa saw fit to show her face."

Snape choked a little on his tea but managed to retain the veneer of calm just about. "She came downstairs?"

"Yes." Molly looked particularly unhappy about this particular event. "She insisted that she was the only one who could calm the boy."

"And I take it she was not."

"Of course she wasn't! The poor thing went into shock, he'd not realised she was _here_- hiding in the sodding attic. He wouldn't even speak to her. Hermione had to sit with him for two hours while he stared at the wall. I don't know what else he did because he wouldn't let anybody but her near him."

Snape sighed. "Where is he now?"

"He fell asleep on the sofa with Hermione at about three o'clock this morning. Unless he's done a bunk he's still there."

Snape nodded and got to his feet. "Hopefully he will not be too much trouble tonight. I hope to have Potter and the D.A. away after the Dark Lord by this afternoon. Perhaps, with a little more room, he will not be such a-"

"Selfish Git?" said a voice at the door. Snape turned to see Harry, still in his pyjama's, glaring at him. "Good Morning Severus." he said.

"Potter." Snape nodded. Although civil, and with perhaps a new found respect for each other, the pair were far from friendly.

"Morning dear," called Molly from the other side of the Kitchen. "There's tea in the pot and porridge in the cauldron. Help yourself while I go check on the Malfoy boy. The poor dear."

Harry and Snape were left alone in the Kitchen, sat across from each other at the table in silence. Eventually, Harry broke it.

"So you think we could be on his tail as soon as this afternoon?"

"I have every reason to believe so."

"What if-"

"Potter, please. I am trying to eat. I do not need your endless doubts and queries spoiling my digestion. If you want answers speak to Miss Granger."

"Fine." Harry stabbed at his bowl of porridge and fell silent again. For a while.

"Snape?"

"What Potter?"

"I really don't think we should have done that to Malfoy."

"Done what exactly? Lied to him and deceived him, or saved him from himself and brought him here so we can end this war?"

"You didn't see him last night," Harry said angrily, his voice raising slightly. "I've never seen _anybody_ like that. He wouldn't let Hermione out of his sight! Wouldn't let anybody else even touch him, including and especially Narcissa."

"He'll get over it." said Snape grimly to his tea. "He's resilient."

Harry sighed and returned to his breakfast. There wasn't really much he could do about it now.

"What..." Snape began suddenly, "What do you mean by 'wouldn't let Hermione out of his sight'? How exactly _is_ he towards Miss Granger?"

"Weird."

"If you perhaps expand on that fascinating theory Potter...?"

Harry looked up from his breakfast, irritation and anger marring the green eyes Snape knew so well.

"He kept calling her Jane, for one thing."

"He doesn't know any Jane's."

"Well he doesn't seem to think so. And he kept... sending her birds."

"The paper ones Molly was talking about?"

Harry shrugged. "He was really messing with her head. He'd call her a Mudblood, tell her she was disgusting, then suddenly he'd be... cuddling up to her. And he didn't let her away from him for a single moment. Even when he was shouting at her and saying he hated her, he wouldn't let her go. She was exhausted by the end of it all, she even fell asleep with him on the sofa."

Snape sat back in his seat and fixed Harry with an inquisitive look.

"And how did Miss Granger act around him?"

"Upset."

"Potter, do you think we could forgo these one word answers in future and go straight for the proper explanations?"

Harry scowled all the more. "That's it. Other than being her usual self-sacrificing, comforting, brilliant Hermione self, she was bloody upset! She was on the brink of tears all pissing night. Although..."

"Yes?" urged Snape.

"She was really, _really_ angry with Narcissa."

"She was angry with her when we spoke to her through your watch." pointed out Snape.

"Yeah- but it was worse this time. As soon as Malfoy said he didn't want to see her, Hermione had her halfway out of the door. She was... actually pretty protective of him."

Snape nodded gravely. "I see."

He nodded at Harry, who was looking at though he had just stumbled across a a murder scene, and got up to walk to the door. Harry did not notice Snape draw his wand or turn suddenly on his heel, wand raised.

"_**Obliviate**_" he said, erasing all recollection of their discussion from the boys mind. It would not do to have Potter working things out too soon. Bad things always happened when Potter finally cottoned on to something.

****

_Draco was standing in the middle of the Hogworts Quidditch pitch, watching as his team flew around above his head. He was trying to shout up to them that his broom was broken, to make one of them surrender theirs to him, but he couldn't shout properly. They were all shouting down at him, asking why he wasn't looking for the snitch. _

"_Draco?" they called. "Draaccooo!!"_

"Draco dear?" he opened his eyes to see Molly Weasley stood over him with a cup. "Time to get up. Breakfast is ready."

He wished, for a moment, that Molly was _his_ mother and not that stupid Weasel's. He shook him self and sat up.

"Where's Hermione?" he in a croaky voice.

"I think she's outside." answered Molly. "Smoking one of her cigarettes."

"I'll go find her." said Draco getting up.

"Oh no you don't. You leave her alone for a while. Come and have something to eat, you're nothing but skin and bones."

Draco laughed.

"What's funny?"

"Hermione said this would happen. That your compulsion to fatten me up would overtake any feelings of dislike you might have."

"Is that so?" Molly looked completely un-phased. " Into the kitchen with you. Chop chop."

Malfoy hauled himself off the sofa and after Molly. He wanted to see Hermione, to make sure she hadn't gone anywhere, even though the smell of porridge was luring him in. He slipped away from Molly as she walked into the kitchen and he carried on down the hall to the front door.

Hermione was sat on the doorstep, with a scattering of cigarette ends for company. She did not look round.

"Good Morning Draco." she said, numbly.

Draco kicked away the ash and butts and sat down next to her. "Morning." he said.

"What do you want now?" she asked.

"You."

"As ever." she muttered and leant her head on his shoulder. "Did you mean what you said last night?"

"I said a lot of things last night."

Hermione sighed. "Yeah, I know."

"What particular thing were you asking about."

"What you said on the sofa before you finally let me sleep."

"Oh." said Draco, taking the cigarette from her hand and taking a long drag, he coughed a little. "That."

"Yes, that."

Draco exhaled the smoke into the cold morning air and gave her back the cigarette.

"Yes." he said at last. "I still love you."

"I was afraid of that."

***

Snape and Remus were arranging the sitting room, with the help of the Ravenclaws, to be used for scrying. The Furniture had all been moved to the sides of the room and a large map of the British Isles had been laid on the flaw. A further map of western Europe was rolled up on the table, should it turn out that Voldemort was no longer in Britain. On the table was a large bowl, much like the one Dumbledore used for Pensieves, laid with various Runes and symbols. It would need to be filled with Draco's blood. Completely filled.

Snape had brought with him a blood restoring potion, which Poppy had looked over and agreed would be safe to use. Although she shuddered when she saw the size of the bowl.

Beside it stood a glass goblet, carved with similar runes, with which Snape would use for the actual scrying. He felt a little sick at the thought of it all, but it was their only option at that point.

When Draco and Hermione, who were still very much attached at the hip but a little happier than yesterday, entered the room the curtains had been drawn and the lamps had been lit. Hermione was not sure if that was actually a part of the ritual of Snape had just done it for the ambience. He had quite a flair for the dramatic so she wouldn't put it passed him.

"Has Miss Granger explained the ritual to you Draco?" asked Snape in a lowered voice. Draco nodded, turning a little grey at the sight of the bowl.

"Let's just get this over with." he muttered, grasping Hermione by the elbow and dragging her over to the table with him. He sat down on the table beside the large vessel and rolled up his sleeve. A lower murmur rushed round the room as the mark came into view. It seemed as though only Snape and Hermione did not flinch.

Snape handed Draco a long silver knife which Draco took with trembling fingers.

"You do it." he said to Hermione, pressing the offending weapon into her hands. She looked at him with fear but nodded silently. He held out his wrist and she cut across it, ignoring his dull hiss of pain and forcing herself to think of the act as nothing more than blood-letting; a medical procedure. She looked away as soon as she was done. She wanted nothing more than to leave the room and go back out in the crisp daylight for another cigarette. Draco looked at her, guessing what was on her mind.

"Don't leave me." he told her quietly, the trickle of his blood drowning out his voice to all but her. "Please."

She nodded silently, her eyes as big as a house-elf's, and sat down on the table beside him, away from the open wound.

"It doesn't hurt." he lied.

Hermione said nothing again, but took his free and between her own and squeezed it.

Draco began to look woozy, his grip on her hand was weakening and she looked to Snape with terror etched across her face. Snape crossed the room, taking care to avoid the map, and pulled a vial of orangey-red liquid from his pocket. Hermione took it and held it to Draco's lips. A few minutes later his grip became firm once again. The bowl was not yet half full.

***

Ron and Harry sat in the kitchen together, more or less alone apart from one or two Hufflepuffs at the far end of the table.

"What the hell is going on with her?" Ron was saying. "I can't believe she'd willingly _speak_ to him, let alone stay up all night taking all the shit he threw at her."

"Hmmm." said Harry, who had not entirely forgiven Ron for his escapades with Lavender. "I'd just count yourself lucky that she's had the distraction Ron. If she'd not been so busy with his tantrums she might have had time to murder you."

Ron grumbled a little under his breath and went back to his breakfast. He didn't care for another black eye from Harry. And he still had nightmares about what the twins did to him.

***

The bowl was nearly full and Draco had exhausted Snape's supply of blood Replenishing potion. Apparently nobody had accounted for his poor state of health when they calculated how much he would need. Hermione watched with horror as yet more blood was allowed to drip out of him, despite his rapidly fading colour and the paper texture his skin had taken on.

"How much more do you _need_ Snape?" she asked, for the fifth time. "Why did you bring so little potion!"

"Hush Jane," murmured Draco, "I'm fine."

Hermione sighed in exasperation and stood up. "Right. Snape, come and watch. You're not taking a drop more from him than you absolutely must."

Snape complied, despite his revulsion, and came to supervise the process more closely. He estimated that they would only need an ounce or so more.

"Nearly," he said, "nearly... Madame Pomfrey? Would you have your wand ready to seal the wound?" Poppy nodded and rushed over, wand raised.

The seconds dragged on and Hermione began to feel desperate. At last, Snape lifted Draco's arm from the bowl, the sodding _vat_, and nodded for Poppy to heal him.

As soon as this was done, Hermione led Draco away to the kitchen, with half a mind to make him eat absolutely everything in it. Although she'd start him off with sweet tea and a Mandrake infusion.


	31. Dramatics

Harry and Ron were still sat at the kitchen table when Hermione entered, a paler than usual Draco Malfoy trailing after her. Harry tried not to react but Ron, so it seemed, had no intention of behaving politely. He stood up abruptly, throwing down his spoon with a clatter. Hermione watched him go with a harsh expression on her face but as soon as he was gone she crumpled.

"He's a Goit." muttered Draco as he nigh on collapsed into a chair beside her.

"Please Draco." she whispered. "Just be quiet."

Draco scowled and crossed his arms but was silent. Hermione poured him a vase of tea, all the cups being currently in use, and stirred three sugars into it. She set it in front of him and gave him her 'concerned' look- eyes searching and lip bit.

"I'm fine." he repeated, although his bluish hands betrayed him with a slight tremble. "Why do I have to drink out of this? Is it charmed?"

"No but it's that or the flower pot."

Hermione gave him one last penetrative stare for good measure and then turned away to look for mandrake roots. Harry and Draco watched her movements as though she were a player on a stage. She had climbed onto the working surface to reach the top shelves and was rooting around through various jars and packets.

"Rosemary, Mallowsweet, Thyme, Help yourself to some porridge Draco. What else is here...Plagentine, Puffapod...Ahah! I knew Molly would have some." she said, as she hopped back down, a glass jar of what looked a lot like dried ginger slices grasped in her hand. She looked over to the table to find Harry and Draco staring at her. It was bizarre how different they looked; black haired and bespectacled Harry in his white shirt; Draco pale and elegant in a black jumper. It was almost as though one were the photograph and the other the negative. The corner of her mouth twisted in a badly concealed smile.

"Mandrake roots." she said, holding up the jar. "They have-"

"Restorative properties." chorused the juxtaposing pair, glaring a little at each other.

"Oh _well done_." said Snape from the doorway. "Ten points to Slytherin and two to Gryffindor."

"Why do I get less?"

"Ten points from Gryffindor for asking inane questions." answered Snape with a sneer. He paused for a moment, Hermione had to concentrate very hard on her Mandrake infusion to keep from laughing. Snape really was meant for the stage.

"Come." he said at last. "We have found him."

With that, he spun on his heel and billowed away from view. Hermione finally lost her tentative grip on herself and snorted, before trying to muffle her hysterics in a red and white checked tea-towel. Harry, already half-way down the hall after Snape, did not notice but Draco looked at her in confusion, an unsure smile on his face.

"Why are you laughing?"

For a while he was given no answers besides _'ten points from Gryf -Gryffindor' _and _'Come!'_ interspersed with her melodious giggles. He laughed a little at the sight of her.

When at last she calmed down enough to breath and hand him a jar full of what looked like weak tea she wiped her face on the checked tea-towel.

"He's so _dramatic_." she explained, lowering her voice conspiratorially. She needn't have bothered, from their seats by the fire the Hufflepuff girls, gathered around the back door and talking about them in hushed tones, could not hear them. Draco nodded in whole-hearted agreement and tried to sip the scalding infusion she had given him.

"You remember all those pickled animals in his potions room?" he asked.

"Who doesn't? My favourite was the vole that looked like it was waving."

"Only _you _would have a favourite." Draco smiled and tugged playfully on one of her hoydenish curls. "He put them there to scare us."

"No he didn't." she huffed but her smile would not go away. "Don't be ridiculous."

"He did! Don't you believe me?"

"Obviously not!" she said with a laugh.

It was Draco's turn to huff, as he stared moodily into his jam jar. "None of you trust me."

Hermione's smile faltered and her eyes scanned his face rapidly. "Don't be such a twit. Of course I trust you. I'm your _wife_."

What she had meant to be a friendly jibe, designed to make him smile despite himself and give her a brotherly shove, was not received as such. His eyes shot up from the sepia liquid to bore into her own with such an intensity of feeling it startled her. After a moment he looked back to his restorative, noting it was the same colour as her irises. Only then did he gave her the brotherly push she was expecting and he laughed. Hermione still felt a little unsettled though.

"Keep it quiet." he said as a handful of young men entered the room. They looked like Hufflepuffs too. "Otherwise they'll all be wanting one."

"You oik. Drink your medicine."

"Of course Wendra."

"Wendra? Who's... do you mean _Wendy_?"

Draco shrugged as he gulped the rest of his drink.

"Ridiculous wizard. What on earth did I do to deserve you."

Draco smacked his lips and put down the empty jar. "You must have been very very good as a child."

"No, I think it has something to do with the time I set poor Severus on fire. Or letting the boys cheat off my homework."

"You... set Snape on _fire_?"

"Oh it seemed the right thing to do at the time." She said as she went to get him a bowl of whatever was left.

"Oh... Hey wait for me." he said, hauling himself to his feet and swaying a little.

"I'm not going anywhere." her face was puzzled. Draco's followed suit.

"I thought you were going to find out where the Dark Lord is."

"Erm... no I... I was getting you something to eat." she said, looking at the bowl in her hand as though she had never seen it before. "Your still as white a sheet."

Draco sat back down but Hermione remained where she was, frozen in the middle of the kitchen floor. She hadn't even _thought_ about joining the others. She shook herself. Why should she join them anyway. She and Draco had already done their share ten time's over. He looked like he might faint at any moment and nobody else was volunteering to keep an eye on him. He probably wouldn't let them anyway.

Despite herself, Hermione felt a little smug about that.

*****

"Draco?" whisered Hermione, barely audible above the crackle of the fire. "Are you asleep?"

When he did not answer she pressed two fingers to his neck, double checking he was still alive- he did not even appear to be breathing.

"I'm still alive Jane." he mumbled.

Hermione sighed in relief and shifted into a more comfortable position as he put his head in her lap. She carded her fingers through his silky hair absent mindedly.  
She looked over to the back door to find one of the Hufflepuff girls curling their lip at her.

"What." she asked bluntly.

"Nothing." said the girl quickly, blushing slightly and looking away.

"Come on!" persisted Hermione. "What is it? Is there something the matter?"

The girl did not reply. She and her house mates exchanged looks.

"Only, I thought I made myself clear yesterday. Draco has proved his loyalty to us and-"

"Well," snorted one of the young men that she did not know that well, "to you perhaps."

Hermione turned scarlet in a mixture of embarrassment and rage. "No, not just to me!" she answered. "When was the last time you rescued ten people from the Deatheaters!"

"Last time I looked he still _was_ a Deatheater." he laughed mirthlessly. "We've seen his arm."

"So what! Have you never heard of the prodigal son? You should think him all the better for having the courage to change."

She looked into her lap to find Draco looking up at her, she ignored him.

"If you have some sort of problem with him being here-"

"I've got a problem with his head being in your lap." interrupted the Hufflepuff boy.

Hermione was quiet for a moment.

"I think you should go look in the sitting room." she said at last.

The Hufflepuff snorted. "And why should I do that?"

"Because if you saw just how much blood Snape just rang out of him you might not be so quick to jump to conclusions."

The Hufflepuffs exchanged looks again.

***

Harry looked over the blood spattered map with ill disguised horror. Draco's blood stains were still wriggling around the map, like a bacteria search party. The blood spots crawled from Birmingham to Bristol and back as though they were lost and trying to find their way. No wonder Malfoy had looked so much paler than usual.

"You see?" said Snape excitedly, pointing a long finger towards Wales. "The blood is all heading for here."

Harry looked a little queasy. "But where exactly? That's a pretty big blob. It could be anywhere from Snowdonia to Aberystwyth!"

"Calm down Potter the net will tighten. Be patient. For once." purred Snape.

Harry did not like it when Snape spoke to him like that. It was a unnerving. He probably shouldn't say anything about it though, once Snape knew he didn't like it he'd- oh sod it.

"Could you not purr at me please? You're not a cat."

Snape stared at at him for a moment. "I was not aware." he said with a supercilious smile. "You should have said something sooner Mr. Potter. I would hate to have been... upsetting you."

"Yeah well. Just stop it alright" muttered Harry, relieved he did not redden as Ron did. "Look, the stain is just getting _bigger_."

Snape came to stand closer to the grisly map, which they were all trying to keep as far away from as they could. Indeed the red mark was only increasing.  
"I don't understand... it should begin to shrink... perhaps if we leave it a little longer. Come away Potter."

Harry nodded and returned with Serverus to lean against the wall with everybody else. The smell of old wet ink and copper went with him. Cho wrinkled her nose and shifted away from him slightly.

The door creaked open and a crowd of Hufflepuffs peeped in. They gaped in horror at the rooms blood spattered inhabitants and floor. Turning pale they quickly shut the door again.  
Harry frowned, hearing the front door banging as they all rushed out to the garden for air.


	32. When do we leave?

"Hermione?"

She turned her attentions from the kitchen door and back to the occupant of her lap. "Yes?"

"As comfortable as you are, I think I'd prefer a bed. Which room is mine?"

"Er... Well I suppose you'll be... in with the rest of the boys..." she was not sure whether she should be laughing or curling up in a corner with a rug over her head.

"What?"

"Well, we've managed to expand the inside of this house a hell of a lot, but we haven't managed to put extra rooms in yet."

"So it's like a dormitory?"

"No... the bed is the same as the girls."

Draco sat up and looked at her. Confusion flickered over his drained face. It was quickly followed by realisation and then something like fear and loathing at once.

"They all sleep in one big bed?" he spluttered. "You can't expect me to... no! The day I cuddle up to Potter will be a frigid day in hell!"

"Draco please calm down. There isn't really any other option."

"I'll sleep on the sofa again."

"You can't, They've turned the sitting room into some sort of war room."

"I'll sleep with you then."

"Lovely as that would be," she said dryly, "I don't think the rest of the girls will take kindly to you being in their bed."

I'll sleep in the garden shed if I have to!" he said obstinately,"I am not sharing a bed with The-Boy-Who-probably-hogs-the-covers!"

Hermione gave him a sympathetic look. "It's okay," she reassured him, "Harry isn't even in that room. He and Ginny converted the airing cupboard when the got engaged apparently.

So you wont have to worry about-"

"He sleeps in a cupboard?"

"Well they enlarged it obviously."

"Oh." Draco was silent for a while. "Well I'll have _that_ then."

Hermione frowned at him. "No Draco, they've just gotten engaged. You can't turf them out of their love nest just because you don't want to-"

"Wait," Draco broke in, "I have to let them have the room because they're _engaged_?"

"I told you they were."

"Well we just got _married_ for Merlin's sake, _We_ should get the room."

"It's hardly the same."

"You fucking right it's not. We're a done deal, we should get the room!"

Hermione laughed at him and pulled his head back into her lap. "Silly boy." she teased, stroking his hair again.

She opened her mouth to say something else but closed it again quickly.

"What?" asked Draco, sitting up. "Have you had an idea? Are we going to tell them about the marriage?"

"Merlin no!" gasped Hermione. "Why would you...of course not! I just remembered that Harry will be going off after you know who as soon as they know where he is. So you can probably have his cupboard after all. As long as Ginny doesn't mind."

"So... that's a 'no' to telling them all the good news."

"A definite 'no'!"

"Spoilsport." he muttered. "Don't you want to see the expression on Weasley's face when we tell him?"

"_When_?" repeated Hermione. "There will be no 'when' Draco. You promised."

"I could have had my fingers crossed though."

Hermione looked at him sharply,

"I didn't." he added quickly. "Don't worry Jane. I wont tell them."

"Too bloody right." muttered Hermione, staring back into the fire. She gazed into the crackling flames for so long she thought Draco had fallen asleep. Her mind was utterly blank, except for a feeling of complete contentment. It was so warm and homely beside the fire, especially with-

"Are you going to go with them?" mumbled Draco.

"Hmmm?" she asked, distractedly.

"After the Dark Lord."

"I'd not thought."

"You not thinking? I don't believe you." he laughed softly. "Well, do you think you will _now_?"

She frowned. She had never even questioned whether or not she would follow Harry into the final battle. However, she had been so caught up with her own task and then with Draco... she'd not even packed a bag.

"Of course I will." she replied simply.

"I was hoping you'd not say no." he huffed. "I don't want to go gallivanting around the country. I want to stay here with you and cuddle up in the airing cupboard."

"There's something I never thought I'd hear you say to me." laughed Hermione.

"Why not! You know how much I... oh you mean the airing cupboard bit." he looked back up at her and smiled.

"You know," she said quietly, "You have a much nicer smile than you do sneer."

"Sneers aren't meant to be nice. What time do you think we'll be leaving?"

"What?"

"When are we all setting off? Do I have time for a shower?"

"You... you want to come too?"

"Obviously." answered Draco as though he were talking to a fool.

"...With Harry and Ron?"

"Well I'm not volunteering to share a sleeping-bag with them!" he cried in exasperation, before adding, "I'll share _yours_."

"Why do you want to come too?"

"Because you are. I've not had some sort of epiphany Granger..._Malfoy _I mean."

"You really want to come?"

"No I don't _want_ to go," he said impatiently. "why are you finding this so hard to understand? I thought you were clever." he sat up to look her in the eye properly. He was at just the right level to kiss her. His eyes flicked down to her lips before snapping back to her eyes again once or twice.

"I want to stay with you. Ideally it would be somewhere warm and comfortable but in lieu of that, I will settle for a shared sleeping bag. If that means trekking with the wonder boys, I will just have to do it. Also, I don't trust them to look after you properly"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well they didn't really do a very good job of it before. Just look what happened."

"What happened?" asked Hermione, confused.

"You ended up married to a deatheater."

***

"Look it's beginning to shrink!" said Harry excitedly. "It was much bigger a moment ago."

"My my my," said Snape silkily, "Your ability to state the obvious just keep improving Potter."

"Oh shut up." muttered Harry.

"What was tha-" Snape began to say, but was interrupted by the door squeaking loudly as it admitted Hermione.

"Alright Hermione?" said Harry.

"He wants to go too." she said simply.

Harry sighed. "We've discussed this Hermione. We all went over it while you were away."

"You... you did? How did you know he'd want to come?"

"Well he made it fairly obvious!"

Hermione looked puzzled. "But you didn't... you... I don't think he did."

"How would you know?"

"Well Draco and I have been living under the same roof for a week! I think I'd have noticed if he was harbouring a burning desire to come kill you-know-who with us."

Harry and Snape both looked stunned. Snape spoke first.

"Miss Granger... am I to believe that Draco would like to accompany you on the mission?"

"Well who else did you think I meant!"

Harry, who had been utilising the time by looking shell-shocked, finally spoke.

"Dobby!" he rasped.

"Erm... no. I meant Draco."

"He can't come." Harry said tonelessly, trying not to look at her.

"Why not?" she asked crossly. "I don't see why he should have to stay behind. He probably knows loads of stuff about the Deatheaters that we might find useful."

"Yeah, well we've got Snape for that."

Hermione looked to Snape, hoping for some support- Draco was his Godson after all- but the Potions Master was not much help. He was staring at her with a horrified look on his face and was patting his pockets as though looking for something. He found what he was looking for quite quickly; a vial of blue liquid which he drank in one while Harry was still arguing with her.

"Potter... would you excuse Miss Granger and myself?" he asked languidly, taking Hermione's arm before either had time to protest and steering her out of the room.


	33. Which one do you want?

_"Potter... would you excuse Miss Granger and myself?" he asked languidly, taking Hermione's arm before either had time to protest and steering her out of the room._

Hermione found herself in the back garden, trying to light a cigarette in the wind that was picking up while Snape sent the snogging couples back inside.

"Worse than the Yule bloody Ball-" she heard him mutter, as he ousted a Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff couple from behind the shed. "GET INSIDE!"

The couple, which had been veering towards the trees round the side of the house both yelped and ran indoors, following the rest of the interrupted lovers.

"Snape, could we not have just gone somewhere else?" she asked out of the corner of her mouth, finally managing to keep a match lit long enough to light her cigarette.

"No." he answered. "We can't have _anybody_ eavesdropping."

"Fine, well everybody is gone now, so what was it you wanted to talk to me about? Have you got a plan to convince Harry about Draco?"

"Miss Granger... what I'm about to say might sound a little... well, presumptuous. But you must not question me, understood?"

Hermione, who's respect for her old professors knew no bounds, nodded eagerly.

"You must leave Draco alone."

Perhaps it did know bounds after all.

"Excuse me?" she said.

"Whatever you think is going on between you and my godson has to end. Immediately. You must stop speaking to him, stop-"

She held up a hand to stop him. "You really are a piece of work Snape." she said softly.

He raised his eyebrows. "Miss Granger?"

"A Mudblood isn't good enough for your godson, right?"

"Miss Granger that isn't -" Snape tried to interrupt but she would not let him.

"-I would have thought that after everything with Harry's mother- oh yes, Molly told me _all_ about that- you would have gotten over your blood prejudices! But apparently I was mistaken. You're still just a half-blood creep with an inferiority complex. How dare you ask that of me!"

She started to walk away from him and back into the house. Snape was too stunned that Molly had told her about him and Lilly to go after her.

"Oh! And don't think that just because you're his godfather you'll have any more effect on Draco!" she spat and slammed the door behind her.

"That could have gone a little better." called a voice from above him. Snape looked up to see Ginny leaning out of the landing window above him, waving.

"You could have helped!" he shouted up to her.

"And miss that?"

"Miss Weasley, this is serious. You remember what happened last time I assume?"

"Yes, and we will deal with it the same way." she called, holding up her wand and spinning it between her fingers.

"Fine." said Snape.

"Good. Which one do you want?"


	34. Flickering

"Good. Which one do you want?"

Hermione slammed the back-door behind her. She couldn't believe Snape had just asked _that_ of her. What a greasy old Hypocrite!

How could she not be good enough for his godson when Harry's muggleborn mother had been good enough for _him_... too good for him, apparently. It wasn't even as if Draco's family bloodline was his concern either, _he_ wasn't a Malfoy.

'But _I_ am." she thought, rather smugly, a slightly dazed smile on her face.

It just didn't make sense. Why was Snape so against the idea of her and Draco becoming involved? She had thought that Snape had come to- sort of- like her. She had certainly grown more fond of him, dramatic old bat that he was. It occurred to her that she might have been wrong. Perhaps it wasn't _her_ that wasn't good for _Draco_ in Snape's opinion. Perhaps it was the _other way around_. But that was just ridiculous, of course Draco was good enough! She loved Draco and...

The dazed smile disappeared from her face. She... wait, what? _Loved_ _Draco_?

No, she bloody didn't.

They'd only spent about a week together and Hermione didn't believe love could grow that quickly. After what Ron had just done to her she wasn't sure if she believed in love at _all_. She just felt protective of Draco was all. He didn't really have anybody else. She was loyal to him.

But... why did she feel so suddenly compelled towards him? There was a voice in her head answering her.

_'You do love him. He's clever, isn't he? He's funny too. Remember how he used to make you laugh? He used to call you 'Her, my only'...' _

She blocked out the voice. What it was saying was ridiculous. Draco called her Jane. But the voice was getting louder and louder. She could only just think through it..

'_Please Hermione! I love him! Please stop fighting, I've missed him so much, you don't know what it's been like! You had Ron! What have I had? Please Hermione You love Draco too!!'_

The voice, which did not sound quite like her own, was beginning to sound hysterical.

_'Just let me see him! I just want to be near him! Hermione !Please!'_

She tried to recall what had happened since she arrived back at Shell Cottage. But all she could think was that she loved him. But... how could that be possible? She sat down on the stairs and thought hard.

'Right....' she bunched her skirt in her fingers and gripped tightly, '....right.'

She didn't know where to even start.

_'Trust me Hermione, You love him, You love him...'_

"Fuck." she muttered. "What the fucking.... fuck!"

It just didn't seem right. She knew she _liked_ Draco but she could explain _that._ He was intelligent and had a droll wit that she found appealing.... she found _him_ quite appealing, if she was honest. But what she couldn't explain was the nigh on overwhelming compulsion to run back into the kitchen where she had left him dozing and throw her arms round his neck, never to let go. In fact... it wasn't '_nigh on_ overwhelming'... it _was overwhelming._ She physically couldn't stop herself from getting to her feet and walking, dazedly, towards the kitchen door.

No, _really. _

_She couldn't stop herself._

She was _trying_ to stop.

Her eyes began to water with the effort of restraining herself. It wasn't like when the fake Moody had put them under the Imperious Curse in her fourth year; there was no dreamlike daze as she watched herself do these things. As somebody else was controlling her body.

Where _was_ everybody? Usually she couldn't find a scrap of privacy in this place but, typically, as soon as she was being subconsciously controlled by a telepathic lunatic with a Draco Malfoy obsession they were all sodding _out_!

Her body dragged itself into the kitchen and towards the where Draco sat with his eyes closed.

"Drr-" she couldn't think any more, let alone speak, "Drraco-"

His eyes flew open at the sound of her distress.

"Wassa matter?" he demanded groggily, fumbling for his wand and leaping to his feet. "Woss wrong?".

He had finally given way to sleep when she had not returned from speaking to Potter. Visions of Deatheaters swarming through the hallway rushed through his mind. However, the kitchen was silent except for the crackle of the fire, until Hermione spoke again.

"I love you..." her voice had taken on a completely different tone. It had been choked with tears and panic not a moment before- now it sounded soft... relieved almost. He looked at her properly for the first time.

She was walking very slowly towards him, her face streaked with tears but she was smiling as though she hadn't done so in years.

"...I love you too." he said at last. "Jane... what's-"

In a flash the witch's face changed. The fear he had heard in her voice when she woke him was back.

"Something's wrong" she slurred, tears coursing down her face again, "Draco I'm frightened I...I..."

Draco had never been quite so disturbed in his life. He had never seen anything like it. And he had seen some twisted sights in his time. Fear flickered in her eyes.

Merlin her... her _eyes_! They were literally _flickering_; flashing between brown and their usual yellowey amber colour.

She smiled again and threw her arms around him. "Merlin I've _missed_ you Draco."

Slightly unsure what was wrong, Draco did not react for a moment.

When he was _completely_ unsure what was wrong, he put his arms around her and hugged her tight.

"I'm right....right here Jane." he stuttered and,with that, she collapsed into his arms unconscious. Holding her carefully, as though she were made of spun-sugar, he strode towards the door shouting for Snape, Molly, Potter.... _anybody_!

***

When Hermione regained consciousness her mind was under a barrage of what she would only describe as memories. Only they weren't _her_ memories. Surely she would have known something about them before if they had been.

They were so _real_ though... but what they appeared to show was so... so highly improbable that she could not possibly believe them.

_~~~~"Hermione?"~~~~_

"_What?"_

_~~~~"Why did you go to the ball with Krum?"~~~~_

_~~~~"Why did you go with Pansy!"~~~~_

_~~~~"You know I couldn't get out of that!"~~~~_

Hermione pulled open her eyes, with not a little difficulty, to see the face of Severus Snape bent over her; his wand at her temple, muttering with closed eyes.

The sallow, hook-nosed, oily, bat-like.... _bastard_ was fucking about with her memories and putting in false ones!

That... that just wasn't cricket.

Summoning all her strength, Hermione reached up her hand and slapped him as hard as she could.

Her old professors eyes flew open, obviously surprised that she was awake. He went to stun her again but was too slow, she snatched his wand and kicked him in the chest, sending him wheeling, winded, across the room.

"What the bloody hell do you think you are doing!" she shouted. "_**Petrificus Totalus**_!"

Snape, who had been crawling towards her, trying to stand, immediately stiffened; his arms and legs snapping to his sides. He was completely immobilised.

"Bloody hell Hermione," came a familiar voice from the other side of the room, "if you wanted to know what he was doing, you should have let him carry on."

She gaped at her friend. "_Ginny_?" she gasped.

The young witch nodded. "Well I was hardly going to be Ron, was I?"

"What... what's going on?"

Ginny did not answer at first. She searched for the right words. It was while she was stalling for time that Hermione noticed Draco sprawled across a sofa in the corner of the room.

From this she deduced several things.

1. They were no longer in Shell Cottage.

2. Whatever Snape had been doing to her mind was probably about to be or had been performed on Draco also.

3. Snape had done a lot more than mess around in her head.

"Oh Merlin...." she whispered.

"Yeah.... you could say that" said Ginny. "Listen Hermione, do you trust me?"

"Right now?"

Ginny nodded.

"No." Answered Hermione, "_**Petrificus**_ _**Totalus**_."

Ginny, evidently caught offguard by Hermione's reaction, fell to the floor like a felled tree.

Hermione rushed to Draco to check his pulse and his breathing. Both were unsurprisingly weak but nonetheless present.

"_**Renervate**_." she murmured.

His eyes opened slowly. They were bleary and out of focus...

She gave him a small, awkward smile.

"You didn't tell me you had a glamour on." he said softly.

"My... my glamour? Draco... they've kidnapped and brainwashed us and you're choosing _that_ to focus on?"


	35. We've not long: Part I

_"My... my glamour? Draco... they've kidnapped and brainwashed us and you're choosing that to focus on?"_

"Would you take it off now?" he asked softly.

She stared at him. There was something sad about his expression which made her drag Snape's wand across her face, pulling the glamour off with it. Her features remained much the same but the rosy glow in her cheeks faded and her expression became more pronounced.

"Ah, there she is." he smiled, seeing the face he loved so dearly reappear. "Her, my only."

She shook her head in disbelief and helped him to sit up on the threadbare sofa. "I don't know how you realised I was wearing it-" she muttered, getting to her feet.

She approached where Snape lay on the cold flagstones. She intended to remobilise his body from the neck up so as to question him.

"Hermione! What are you doing?" Draco shouted.

She turned to look at him. "I'm finding out what the hell is going on here!"

"You mean... you don't know?"

Hermione struggled to keep her temper under control. She hated it when she failed to understand something.

"_Clearly_." she snapped.

The sadness in Draco's expression was fast becoming a look of sheer agony. "Hermione... Tell me what you remember."

She thought for a moment. "I remember... talking to Harry about you coming on the mission... And then Snape asked to talk to me in the garden... and you wont believe what the git asked me to do-"

Draco sighed, stopping Hermione mid-flow. "What?" she asked.

"Just a guess Jane," he replied, "but did he ask you to leave me alone?"

"How did you know?"

"And- wild stab in the dark here - did you just wake up to find Snape in your memories?"

"The sick bastard was _altering_ them!" she replied, pointing her wand at Snape's throat. The prostrate wizards eyes widened. "Draco, tell me what is going on!"

Draco expression became one of absolute sorrow. "I thought that you understood." he murmured. "That you realised we... don't have very long... Oh _Jane_."

"What? You're not making any sense!"

He did not answer her. He was hunched over his knees; cradling his head in his hands. She had never seen him look so defeated. Even when they were in the ministry... he'd had an air of contempt for the world, preventing him from ever being completely beaten by it. Hermione got slowly to her feet and returned to sit beside him. She was so confused she moved as if on autopilot.

"Draco?" she whispered, cautiously running a hand down his arm. The movement seemed to pull his posture down further. She did not try it again.

"Hermione," he spoke gravely, "you are going to have to let Snape finish what he was doing."

***

Snape closed the door behind him gently. A moment later he cast a silencing charm upon it; the thick oak apparently not beng thick enough to block the sound of Grangers sobs.

Ginny's voice was barely audible when she spoke.

"How long are you going to give them?" she murmured.

Snape just sighed and shook his head.

"Oh." her voice caught and she did not trust herself to speak again. She turned her gaze to the floor and hoped Snape had not noticed her tears.

"Miss Weasley, they both understand it is the only option."

Ginny nodded but could not look up. She kept her attention on a crack in the flagstone beneath her feet. Snape trying to sound reassuring was not the most comforting of things. A tear rolled off the end of her nose and landed just adjascent to the crack that she focused on so intently. Snape sighed again and Ginny, quite unexpectedly, found herself being pulled into an awkward embrace.


End file.
